#it’s so dark and sad but at the same time that song just… feels SO totally opposite????

[coldmorte]

I’ll never get over how in Reservoir Dogs, it’s just a brutal massacre of all the best characters. And then it immediately goes to —

“yOU puT THe LiMe iN tHe CocOnUT”

[because-its-eurovision]

.

[a-boy-called-micah]

.

[writingouthere]

singlemom!reader x neighbor!sukuna. you miss having a baby and Sukuna is dying from a combination of your sexual tension, his lowkey(highkey) baby fever and the drudgery of attending a child's birthday party

cw: Sukuna's breeding kink, red flags are present and accounted for, no one gets laid tho so sad face. this actually ended up being way more sincere and heartfelt than I intended but honestly very typical of me

"Oh we're not together, Sukuna's just been letting me and Bug crash while we look for an apartment."

"Oh he's not my boyfriend, we're just friends!"

"He's actually not Bug's dad. No, no. But, they get along really well. She enjoys having someone else to hang out with aside from me, I think."

Your laughter after the last one plays on repeat as he goes to grab the two of you some refreshments. Sukuna feels like he's living the world's worst version of groundhog day, except instead of being some sad loser who relives the same day over and over, he's apparently a sad loser who is going to live the same conversation over and over again.

"Fuck this shit."

"Um, excuse me but could you watch your language. This is a kid's birthday party." Sukuna wants to ask the bitch who is correcting a grown man's language if he would mind watching his own fucking business but you seem to care about what these losers think and he won't make life difficult for you.

If he happens to step on the guy's foot as he leaves with two cups and a juice box caught in his elbow, well, his steel toed boots need the exercise.

Sukuna knew that if any of his acquaintances, he didn't have friends after all, could see him now, they would die laughing. Die ,because he would kill them for laughing, but fuck he couldn't even really blame them, even in his hypothetical.

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a feared criminal. People pissed themselves when he cornered them in a dark alley. Other bad guys would look at him and say, "wow that guy's a real piece of shit" and now look at him. Stuck at some three year old's birthday party. One more kidzpop butchering of an already shitty song away from committing another felony.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew he was at least getting some pussy out of it, but he had just spent the past two hours hearing you deny him to anyone who asked and it was really starting to get to him.

He knew he was being a little bitch about it, and he wasn't upset just because you weren't fucking him. He was upset that all the things you were telling people, they were technically true. He was just letting you and your daughter crash. He was just your friend, not your boyfriend. Even the comments about him not being Bug's dad, but him being positioned as some kind of really invested babysitter, those might have stung more than the ones about your relationship but you thought that was true too.

Thinking about the kid made him look for her, not that Sukuna ever wasn't aware of where you and your daughter were. It had become instinct before he was even aware of it.

Bug was laughing with some kids he recognized from daycare and others from their regular trips to the park. Her happiness was contagious and Sukuna found his lips twitching up at the ends despite his shitty mood.

Your daughter's eyes found him from across the playground. "kuna!" she called, waving her little hand at him. He waved back with his available hand and made his way towards her. She met him halfway, her little legs unsteady on the wood chips but she didn't seem to notice. She was always like that when she saw him, she ran fearlessly. Maybe she just trusted he'd catch her.

Was it so wrong of him that he didn't like the reminders she wasn't his. That it stung, not just because of his feelings but because it just couldn't be true. He might not have fathered her, but fuck anyone who said this little girl wasn't his.

"I got you a juice, you've been running around so much you gotta be thirsty."

"Not thirsty," Bug argued leaning into him. He held up his hands that were holding the grown up drinks for the two of you, and moved the package still lodged in the crease of his elbow towards the petulant toddler. "Take it, or I'll drink it."

Bug stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed it. She struggled to get the wrapping off the straw and Sukuna didn't even notice what he was doing until she had the straw stretched out towards him and he was pulling the wrapper off with his teeth. He spit it out on the ground as your daughter gave him a polite thank-you and then walked away, sipping her juice as she went to catch up with her friends.

What had become of him?

"Need a hand?" You smile at him and Sukuna hands over your cup before taking a sip of his own. There was unfortunately no alcohol in it but drinking it occupied his mouth before he acted like a pussy and asked you, "what are we?" or "should we get married?" or something equally as pathetic.

"God, I want a baby."

Sukuna almost spit out his drink but he manages to tone it down to just a little cough before turning to look at you. You don't even seem a little embarrassed which is just infuriating. Sukuna's about to make a suggestion on how he can help with that when you sigh and point to where some loser is holding their ugly baby.

"Aren't babies just the cutest, I miss when Bug was that age."

Oh, so this was just you looking at other people's red-faced brats and feeling nostalgic and was not in fact a call to action. Sukuna rolled his eyes and leaned back on the hand closest to you so he didn't touch you as he was so tempted to do these days.

"That baby, like all babies, is hideous. All they do is cry, shit themselves and vomit and I'm not even sure Bug is the exception to that and she's the best kid there is."

You look touched at his affection for your daughter but also fired up on behalf of babies everywhere.

"You can't just say a baby is hideous, Sukuna. Those are the Zenin's. Bug is friends with some of them."

"Well are the older ones cuter, because that baby looks like someone fucked one of those hairless cats."

"Sukuna!" you hiss but he sees you smile, despite yourself. "Okay, maybe that baby isn't like the cutest baby-"

"Hideous."

You continue after smacking his arm. "But Bug was cute, okay. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mom." You take out your phone and quickly swipe until you get to what you're looking for. "See, cute baby."

Sukuna grabs your phone and looks. It's not the first picture he's seen of a young Bug and he's taken his share of photos of her himself, but he finds himself taken in by it anyway.

It has to be a picture from when Bug was really young, she still had the scrunched up, red face that he associates with newborns. But he thinks you're right, she's still cute. He doesn't know if it's because he knows that baby will grow up to be your daughter, but he finds his thumb caressing her little baby cheeks, the wisps of hair he can see peaking out from where she's wrapped in a baby blanket. It's then he sees she's not alone in the picture and there's a different version of you holding her.

The thing that stands out to him is how tired you look. He thinks this couldn't have been too long after you gave birth but still, he wondered if you'd gotten any rest those first few months. You still didn't like talking about your ex, or the circumstances that had led you to his apartment, but Sukuna knew that chances are you were taking care of Bug single handedly and that couldn't have been easy, cutest kid or not.

"She was beautiful, she still is." He reluctantly hands the phone back to you and you look at the picture again, tears building up in your eyes.

"She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I-I wish that the circumstances were different in how I got her. Sometimes, I wonder how I'll explain everything to her when she's older. She just deserves so much better than him, you know?"

"You both do." Sukuna reaches over and brushes away one of the tears that had managed to fall down your cheek. He leaves his hand there a moment, holding your cheek in his palm, just appreciating the warmth.

"Do you want any?"

"What?" Sukuna isn't sure what you're talking about anymore. He can only see your lips right in front of him, the way that your eyelashes brush against your cheek as you blink faster and faster.

"Babies, do you want any?"

Something short circuits in Sukuna's brain and he wants to say, fuck yes.

He wants to tell you that he thinks about it every day. Every time you put Bug on your hip or send him youtube videos of hairstyles you want to try on her. Whenever it's late at night, and little feet pad out of your room and Bug asks him in the loudest whisper he's ever heard, if he can get her some water because she's so thirsty.

He thinks about it when the sun streams through the curtains of his apartment in the morning and it lights up your hair as you move throughout the kitchen, a force of nature, a creature from somewhere far too good to have ended up here with him.

He thinks about it when the three of you go out and people just assume you're a family, because of course you're a family. When you and Bug play some made up game, or Bug gets tired even though she denies it and he carries her sleeping form against his chest. When he holds her in his lap on the subway and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder and he feels like this, this is what he's always wanted.

He's not all pure and good though, because he thinks about it late at night in his bedroom too. After a day of your smiles, of seeing your thighs stretch out of those sleep shorts you started wearing when the weather warmed up, whenever he remembers the feel and smell of your panties when he's lucky enough to find a pair in the laundry basket, he thinks about how the two of you would make some really cute fucking babies.

He's imagined it a million ways. He's imagined you telling him you've gone off your birth control and you need him now after he takes you out on an anniversary dinner. Or him crowding you up against the kitchen counter and you begging him to put a baby in you.

His favorite fantasy is currently one where you get so carried away when you finally finally fuck that you don't ask him to wear a condom and he spends the whole night making sure you're nice and good and full of him and when you tell him a few weeks later you missed your period, he'll let you freak out. But then he'll tell you that he'll take good care of you, and Bug, and your soon to be little one and he'll finally have you, all of you and once you have your second, he'll knock you up again, as many times as he can because there could never be too many mini-you's running around.

At this point, Sukuna remembers he's talking to you, the real you and he swallows a few times before he speaks.

"I do," he says simply but something must show on his face because you're looking at him in a way you never have before. He hears your breath hitch and he leans in to kiss you, and you smell so good and his thoughts are consumed by the little family he just knows you're going to have when suddenly he's pelted by a variety of sharp, little objects.

Sukuna immediately holds up his arm to shield you from what he now sees is a barrage of wood chips which are being thrown at you by an army of toddlers, including your daughter.

You immediately get up and start talking to the kids about the danger of throwing what are basically large future splinters at people's faces and Sukuna is contemplating the murder of every child that isn't his own when you turn to look at him.

You're not just looking at him, you're seeing him and oh. Maybe he would be getting laid tonight, after all.

The slow burn is almost done folks.

thank you to the amazing reception to this series and the one-shot I posted(which there will be a prequel of soon!). it's literally so insane. Masterlist will be up tomorrow which I hope helps with accessibility!

edit: masterlist is up!

[reyenii]

since edwin is very closed off, except for when he’s with his best friend, charles, costume designer kelli dunsmore reflected his buttoned-up mentality through his bespoke suit, complete with bowtie and collar. edwin’s outfit, along with charles’ period garb, were designed to help them stand out more in modern day port townsend. “i knew edwin would, because no one dresses like that now,” says dunsmore.

dunsmore wanted everything about charles to feel ��a little bit cool and underground,” from his union jack and the who bull’s-eye patches to his checkerboard pins. his little cross earring and chain on the outside of his shirt are also meant to be homages to the ’80s.

in the show, crystal’s hero color is purple, which you’ll notice in her velvet coat and long silk letterman jacket, which dunsmore thought of as a psychic cloak with hand-embroidered patches, including the wilting rose of england.

her brown trench coat represents an explosion of everything going on in her mind. dunsmore decided the scribbled words and drawings are a result of crystal writing all over it to express her inner turmoil. there are even lyrics on there from the song she’s listening to on the tube when she meets the dead boys.

david’s connection with crystal seeps into her wardrobe, too. since david wears a flower shirt, dunsmore’s team hand-painted flowers onto crystal’s black boots. and niko is wearing a dark sweater with flowers on it when we first meet her, as an homage to crystal. the costume department also drew the same rune pattern the dead boys use to exorcise david in episode 1 onto crystal’s trench coat and on the tab of her wool bomber jacket. “so she’s always got some sort of protection,” says dunmore.

every color niko wears is inspired by what’s happening in that episode, from the green post-sprite exodus to blue when she’s feeling sad. niko only wears a white look, with nods to her japanese heritage, in the finale as a reset. the charms on her obi belt represent the colors she’s worn all season.

night nurse is someone who’s in control all the time and likes things to be in their proper place. dunsmore looked to vivienne westwood for inspiration, since everything in night nurse’s world is a bit exaggerated. (by the way, niko’s orange monochromatic look is a nod to her scenes with night nurse and night nurse’s red hair.)

since david is a demon, he finds a london boy that looks cool enough for crystal to find attractive. that meant dunsmore dressing him in a shearling jacket you’d find in “all the guy ritchie movies,” black pants and creeper shoes. the costumer’s mood board for “david the d” featured radiohead and amy winehouse and her husband blake, who often wore hats similar to the one you see david wearing in the show.

pay close attention to monty’s leather jacket and you just might spot an inlaid crow feather or two.

it’s not only esther who wears clothes with a gilt, old-gold color — cat king and night nurse also do as a nod to their villainy. (esther and cat king also have similar fur coats.) amidst her beauty, dunsmore wanted esther to be a little rough around the edges. she wears a cuff around her hand that’s adorned with a snake and a ring with teeth all around it to represent the teeth she’s collecting from all the little girls. her eye necklace is meant to be her witch pendant.

mischievous as ever, cat king has (cat) eyes everywhere and is aware of edwin’s affection for charles. so he wears charles’ socks the first time he meets edwin.

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part nine)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

He’s used to feeling anger. It’s familiar to him, like a song he’s heard a million times.

But there’s something weaved in with the anger he’s feeling right now. A painful, sinking hopelessness. It’s almost debilitating.

Rafe typically looks away when he sees you and Blake together, but this time he can’t. It’s like he wants to aggravate himself.

As he sits in the sand, you’re out in the distance, far into the dark blue water, part of two silhouettes closed in a kiss.

You told him sadness isn’t weakness. That’s a fucking joke. If it wasn’t weakness, why does his heartbeat feel unsteady? He’s the very definition of weakness right now.

Rafe pats Sam on the back, mumbling that he’s heading home.

“What, already?” Sam asks, who’s been focused on flirting with Liv the entire time. “You still coming tonight?”

“Yeah,” Rafe replies, although he’s not even sure if he’ll be attending the frat party tonight. He doesn’t know what he’ll do when he faces Blake.

His legs are heavy when he drives back to the dorm. He’s glad he didn’t carpool with anyone.

Rafe needs to get his shit together. He doesn’t want a commitment. He can’t do that. But he doesn’t want you to have one, either. With anyone.

What you have is so good. Why the fuck are you ruining it?

He scoffs to himself. It’s because you’re looking for someone who can commit. And… maybe he could figure out how to do the boyfriend stuff.

Stupid. He’s in disbelief that his mind went there. You don’t even want him like that. You’re friends that fuck. Or you were.

When you wade back onto the shore with Blake, you notice that Rafe is missing. You ask Sam about it, who simply tells you he left in a rush. You settle onto the sand with the rest of your friends, lightheaded and dazed.

About an hour later, you head home. Rafe’s in his room and hears your door open. He considers knocking. But soon after, your door closes again.

He paces for a few minutes, wondering if you went to shower. Or maybe you rushed back to Blake to go spend more time with him.

He desperately hopes it’s the former. He strips down and wraps a towel around his hips, heading towards the co-ed showers.

As you lather body wash over your arms, wondering if Blake felt the same way about the missing spark in your kiss, you hear your name muttered over the rumbling of the shower, echoing through the tiled corridor. You recognize his voice immediately.

“Rafe?” you say with a laugh. As confused as you are, you’re just as relieved to hear him.

You pull the slide lock open, slowly swinging open the shower stall door, eyes landing on his cheerless face. Your smile fades.

Rafe finds both pain and pleasure in that look of concern on your face that took him prisoner long ago. He knows you only care for him as a friend. You fucking love throwing that word around.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

Rafe feels angry. He’s jealous. He’s lost. He’s drowning and this will give him one last breath before he goes under.

He barges into the shower, cupping your face with firm hands and kissing you hard. He’s terrified you’ll shove him off and tell him you’re with someone now.

“One last time,” he mumbles when he pulls back an inch away from you, begging that you’ll want him enough or at least find the pity to do this before you turn into someone else’s girlfriend.

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion. One last time? Why does he want to stop doing this? He said he wanted to keep hooking up with you just the other night.

Nonetheless, you agree. You’re falling for him and continuing this is self-destruction. Whatever his reason, you agree. Even if it hurts, you agree.

“Okay,” you whisper.

His shoulders lose all tension once your soft hands drag up his arms, curving around the planes of his muscles, landing at the sides of his neck.

Touching him is a thrill every single time. This charge of excitement is what your kiss with Blake was missing. Rafe is everything you want. You finally admit it to yourself.

On paper, this doesn’t make sense. You should be head over heels for Blake. He’s a good guy who actually wants to date you. But Rafe, with all of his temper and his arrogance and his repulsion for commitment, is who you want.

Thankfully, the rest of the showers stalls are empty, but you pull back to shut the door behind Rafe and avoid the risk of anyone seeing you.

He lazily bunches his towel onto a free hook and presses up behind you, his mouth on your wet shoulder, hot water drizzling on his back. His hands roam over your chest, down your body, between your legs.

He’s touching you like he has seconds left before he has to stop.

You feel his cock hardening against your back. If this is the last time, you need to taste him, have him every possible way you can.

You turn and sink to your knees, gripping him at his base, putting him in your mouth. He’s still partly soft, delicate against the inside of your cheek.

Rafe shudders under your touch, watching you on your knees, wisps of steam surrounding you. His cock grows in your mouth as you run your tongue over him.

You look up at him like he taught you to the night in the backseat of his car, your heart pounding.

“Those pretty eyes,” he says over the drumming of the shower. “Fuck.”

He drags a hand over your hair, savoring the way your lips close around him. His cock twitches in your mouth as his softness is replaced by tight rigidity.

You pull away, pumping his length in a tight fist, your saliva covering him.

“You always get hard so fast for me,” you praise, eyes tracking the water falling down the ridges of his toned body.

Rafe knows he’s a goner when he thinks about the fact that he wants to only get hard for you.

You put him in your mouth again and start to slowly bob back and forth, slightly gagging every time you take all of him in. He has to press his other hand against the hard plastic door to steady himself as your hot, smooth tongue circles his cock.

His eyes are locked on you. His grip tightens at the roots of your hair as he bucks his hips forward and you open your mouth wider to invite him to control the pace.

Rafe’s takes his hand off the door to hold your head as he starts to rock, slowly fucking your mouth, keeping his locked eyes on yours the entire time.

When you start to massage his balls, he groans, feeling himself getting close. He pulls out, cupping your face to beckon you to stand. You’re on your feet and he kisses you again, softer and slower this time.

As you kiss, you hear a door open down the corridor. He clenches his jaw in frustration. He doesn’t want to be quiet. He wants to hear you moan, and he wants to be the only one to hear it.

“Let’s go,” he huffs quietly.

You don’t have time to think. You turn the shower off and wrap yourselves in your towels and rush to your dorm room. The towels drop the second the door shuts, hands roaming over each other’s wet bodies, lips joining in deep kisses.

He guides you to lie in your bed. This is where it all started. That first night, it was all emotionless and instructional. Now he understands your body like nobody ever has before.

Rafe hovers over you on his knees and dips to kiss your breasts. You stifle a moan as his tongue circles your nipple.

“Louder,” he orders. You trap your bottom lip behind your teeth as you smile, obeying him and moaning as loud as you want to.

He trails kisses down your stomach, over your pelvis, across your thighs and finally puts his mouth between your legs. His wet lips lock around your clit and you tremble, hands finding his hair.

He can’t imagine how the fuck he’ll ever be able to do this to another girl. She won’t taste like you or sound like you.

Rafe runs his tongue over folds, his face getting wet with your arousal. You bunch your fingers into his soft hair, enjoying the sight of his mouth pressed up against you.

His eyes meet yours and it’s such a beautiful sight that you feel envious of all the others who’ll get to see him like this now that you’ve taught him how to please a girl.

When he slowly pushes a finger into you, you start to writhe and shudder, tightening around him. He adds a second, curling up into you as he continues to suck and lap at your clit.

It hardly takes any time at all for him to lead you into an orgasm. You tumble into it with hard pulses, arching your back and squeezing your thighs around him.

Once you come down, he kisses your pussy, thinking that it’s not fair that he didn’t get to do this more times.

He comes up to kiss you, your taste on both your tongues. His cock is swollen as he grinds up against you, the feeling of your bareness with his intoxicating.

“I wanna do it raw,” Rafe says, voice ragged and desperate. “Please?”

You nod without a second thought, wanting to feel him completely. He rubs you, spreading your wetness over his palm.

You watch him stroke himself, his fist moving quickly, covering himself with your arousal. His chest is heaving now as he looks down at you and your awestruck, open mouth.

He’ll miss seeing you like this, all blissful and hungry for him.

Rafe leans down to kiss you again as he guides himself into you, both of moaning into each other’s mouths.

You’re warm and soft and wet and tight around him, giving him a rush of ecstasy before he even cums.

“My perfect girl,” he rasps, his temple against yours. “Everything about you is so fucking perfect.”

You told him not to say shit he doesn’t mean.

He’s following your advice.

As he pushes in and out of you, his hand trails up your forearm and he laces his fingers through yours. The gesture is fucking romantic that you’re almost angry at him for doing it.

You allow yourself to live in this short-lived fantasy, letting Rafe say goodbye to you with his body.

He’s so overcome with passion that he squeezes your hand too hard, making you wince.

“Rafe,” you whisper, “that hurts.”

He tenses and stops moving immediately, blue eyes frantically searching your face for an answer.

“My hand,” you say.

“Shit,” he says. He loosens his grip, gently curling his hand around your fingers. He can’t endure seeing you in pain. Especially if he’s the one who gave it to you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say with a breathy laugh. You thought he hated holding hands. “Keep going.”

Rafe resumes his thrusts, shifting to rub your sensitive clit and meeting your lips with his again.

The pressure of him filling you, the sensation of his thumb dragging circles over you, the way he’s kissing you sends another familiar rush of pleasure through you.

You start to breathe even faster as your walls start to clench around his cock. You whimper as your body warms with the promise of another orgasm.

“Again, baby?” he grumbles in an amused tone. He loves that he can do this to you. “You deserve it.”

Rafe’s words send you over the edge again, your entire body trembling. The way you clench around his cock makes his blood hot, thrusting into you harder and harder.

“You’ll be thinking about me, won’t you?” he says. “Wishing it was me?”

He doesn’t have to say it outright. You’ll be thinking about him the next time you’re tangled up with another man like this. You know you will and it kills you to admit to yourself.

“Yes,” you impulsively answer. The words between you are so sensitive and heavy that you kiss him to stop the conversation from carrying on.

Rafe continues to pound into you, hitting so deliciously deep every time, loving how your pussy swallows him. He’s panting at this point, body slick with sweat, thighs burning as he frantically rocks in and out of you.

“Taking it so fucking good,” he grunts. “Fuck, I’m…”

When he finishes inside you, hips stuttering against yours, every muscle in his body tenses, the wave overtaking him.

He has to keep himself from collapsing on you, shifting and slowly pulling out. You lie on your side with your back to him. It’s too much to look at him after sharing something so intimate, knowing it’s the last time.

You can feel his cum inside you, the lack of him so damn painful. It’s over. You’re crashing now.

“A-plus?” Rafe mumbles against your shoulder.

“A-plus,” you say, hoping your tone doesn’t give away how somber you feel. “You officially know how to please a girl.”

You say it mainly to remind yourself of the situation you have with him. To hear it out loud that this is all a purely physical arrangement.

Rafe shuts his eyes, plummeting from the high you just gave him. He can’t say anything to that. You couldn’t be more clear that you have no feelings for him.

“Why’d you say this was the last time?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

Rafe’s not about to tell you the truth and put himself through the process of getting rejected by you. Especially after he saw you kissing another man just hours ago.

The spite and sorrow return, washing over him again.

“We said we’d do this ‘til we’re satisfied,” he says. “I’m satisfied.”

You hate that his words hurt as much as they do.

You’re about to remind him of what he said at the party a few nights ago, about how he wants to keep fucking around with you. But what’s the point in convincing him to keep doing this when you already know it’s best to end it?

“It was fun while it lasted,” you say indifferently. You’re not even close to satisfied, but you’re not going to beg him. “You can go if you want.”

Another touch from him would be too much. You need to end this now.

Rafe’s weight shifts behind you as he gets out of your bed. You gave him the easy way out. And this is Rafe. Of course he’s going to take it.

Your door shuts behind him and you let out a shaky exhale as you lie in bed, hating that hot tears prick at your eyes.

You weren’t supposed to develop feelings. You lost.

Rafe tells himself he won’t care when he sees you with Blake. He’ll act like it doesn’t fuck with his head until it no longer does. He’ll go to tonight’s party and find a girl and sleep around like he wanted to before he met you.

As you get ready a couple of hours after Rafe left, you’re pretty sure going to the frat party is a shitty idea considering you still feel so heavy-hearted. But it’s better than staying in your room, wallowing in your sadness.

You don’t really want to face Blake in case he tries anything, but the sooner you let him know you only want to be friends, the better. It’s best to rip the bandaid off.

You meet Liv at the house, purposely avoiding Blake and Rafe before you’ve had a drink. A couple of sips in, though, Blake and Sam approach you two, offering you a joint.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” Liv jokes, taking a puff. She offers it to you and you take one pull. Then another. And one more.

The boys challenge you to a game of beer pong and you and Liv follow them to the dining room. You catch Rafe’s gaze. He’s with another girl. Of course he is.

He’s is in the living room, a few minutes into a conversation with someone who approached him, when he sees you. You’re right next to Blake while you set up a game of beer pong. It’s infuriating him all over again.

He realizes there’s a gap in conversation. She must have said something he ignored. He tries to put his focus back onto her, but how can he when the girl he’d do anything for is just across the room, giving another guy the attention he’s dying for?

As you play with Blake against Sam and Liv, you land a ball in a cup. Blake cheers and puts an arm around your waist.

“Nice one,” he says, looking down at you with a smile. You know you’ll have to break it to him soon. Leading him on any longer wouldn’t be fair.

The game carries on, the fog of your high thickening. You keep glancing over at Rafe, who’s looking down at her with that smug smile you know so well. He was just inside you hours ago, raw, and he’s already hitting on someone else.

Sam and Liv end up winning the round, and now that you’re tipsy and stoned, the music is too loud, the air is too humid.

You take a deep breath and look up at Blake, needing a break from everything. You lean in, making sure not to touch him.

“Could we go to your room?” you ask. “I need to sit down.”

“Yeah,” he says. He takes your hand and leads you through the crowd and up the stairs.

Rafe sees you and his chest tightens. It was fun. That’s all you said. It was so much fucking more than that to him, but to you, it was fun.

You’re not shy anymore. Thanks to him. That’s probably why you’re comfortable going upstairs and hooking up with Blake so soon.

He told himself he would act like he doesn’t care. It’s taking everything in him to follow through.

When you settle onto the edge of Blake’s bed, he sits next to you. You can smell his cologne and immediately think of how much more you like Rafe’s.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

“I think I smoked too much,” you reply.

“Shit, that’s not fun.” He puts his hand on yours. “Can I help? Do you want some water or something?”

You swallow hard, taking advantage of the courage you have from the substances you drank and inhaled.

“Blake,” you say quietly. You look down at your lap.

“Yeah?”

“I… want to be honest with you. I think we’d be better off as friends. I’m really sorry if you want more.”

Tension immediately grows between you. After a moment, he replies.

“It’s all good. I think you’re right.”

Maybe he’s saying it just to save face. Or maybe he can sense that your conversations are rigid more often than not and affection between you feels like it’s missing something. Either way, you’re relieved he’s taking it with grace. It’s what you expected from him.

“You deserve a great girl,” you tell him sincerely. Blake looks down and nods.

“If it’s him you want, I hope he gets his shit together for you.”

Blake doesn’t have to say his name. It’s obvious. It’s embarrassing that you’re so transparent, but you try to push away the discomfort.

You meet his eyes and can only offer him a disappointed smile. You hope Rafe can get his shit together, too. But you saw him with another girl downstairs and you know his heart isn’t yours.

Like he said, he’s satisfied. He’s done with you.

Since you sat down, the world has started spinning even harder. You’re not even at the peak of the high yet.

“Is it okay if I lie here on my own for a while?” you ask quietly.

“Of course,” Blake says. “Let me know if you need anything.”

He leaves, surely grateful he doesn’t have to stay with a girl who just rejected him. You breathe through the scary whirling sensation flooding you.

You lean back on the bed and lie down, anxiety gripping you. You know you just have to ride the high out, but your heart is racing.

You close your eyes, taking calculated breaths, trying to keep the fear at bay.

You hear taps at the door a few minutes later and turn your head to see Liv come in. She offers to walk you to your dorm, but the mere thought of even just sitting up when you’re feeling so sick makes you even dizzier.

“I think I just need to stay like this for a while,” you tell her. “I’ll find you, okay? Go have fun.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Text me if you need me,” Liv says.

Eventually, you still feel woozy, but you’re able to sit up. You’ll definitely need help getting home. You’ll find Liv, get home and crawl into bed.

Rafe blew off the girl he was talking to and has been drowning his feelings in booze. When he sees Blake downstairs, he notices you’re nowhere near him.

His eyes search around for you, but you’re not here.

Then he sees you coming down the stairs, slow with every step, holding the bannister with two hands. Any animosity he held for you dissolves when he sees how disheartened you look.

The vision of you like this sobers him up. You were upstairs and Blake just left you to keep partying? He cuts through the crowd and meets you at the bottom of the staircase.

When Rafe approaches you, your anxiety loses some of its power. What you shared earlier today was such a beautiful experience that you almost forget you’re never going to touch him again.

“Hey,” Rafe says over the loud music. “You okay?”

“Partied too hard,” you say tiredly. Your body still feels a bit numb, your head swimming, your inhibitions squandered. You’re afraid of what you might say to him with less of a filter.

He wants to know what kind of partying you’re talking about. If you actually went all the way with Blake. As if knowing will make any difference.

“What’d you do up there?” he asks. You scowl. Is he seriously still jealous of Blake?

“Why do you care?” you ask. “Where’s the girl you were talking to?”

“I don’t want her.”

“Onto the next one, then,” you say bitterly. “I need to go home.” You step to the side to pass him. Your knees wobble and he grips your forearms, keeping you steady.

“I’ll take you, baby.” You realize that’s the first time he called you that outside of sex.

His sense of protectiveness over you is almost overwhelming to him. He realizes he hasn’t ever cared about someone this much before.

“Liv’ll walk with me,” you tell him. You search for your friend in the crowd to see her in a corner, lips locked with Sam’s.

You consider taking Rafe up on his offer. Liv’s busy. Her dorm is on the other side of campus. Rafe is your next-door neighbor. It’s logical that he takes you home.

But your desire to do it not based on logic. You want to spend time with him and live in the fantasy a little longer.

Another wave of dizziness hits you and you look down with a pinched forehead and a shallow frown.

“Hey, what is it?” Rafe asks softly. You love and hate these few and far between displays of sweetness of his because as nice as they are, they never last.

“Dizzy,” you say. His hands are still wrapped around your forearms.

Guilt seeps into his bones, angry that you were upstairs like this by yourself. Especially if you and Blake hooked up and he just left you to sit in discomfort. Rafe would never leave you like this. He’d stay with you.

“Everything okay?” Blake appears behind Rafe. Weeks of pent-up rage twist deep in his gut. He’s been avoiding him all night for this reason.

“You just left her alone up there?” Rafe snaps.

“What?” Blake says.

“Is that how you’re going to treat her?” Rafe says through gritted teeth.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Blake snaps.

Rafe’s hands lose contact with you, his blood boiling as he turns to look at Blake, his chest aggressively pushing up to his.

“You’re a fucking joke,” Rafe starts to shout.

“Back up before you do something you regret, Cameron,” Blake replies. Rafe steps even closer, fists clenched.

“Back up,” Blake warns again. He looks to you and asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

This is the final straw for Rafe. How dare he pretend like he gives a shit about you?

He shoves Blake hard, finally giving into his rage for everything. For taking you. For leaving you upstairs. For being better than him.

Blake’s nostrils flare and he steps forward, hands bunching around Rafe’s collar.

“Get out,” Blake mutters. “Go. You’re done here.”

You’re in shock. You pull at Rafe’s hand, trying to deescalate the best you can while you’re still feeling so disoriented.

“Let’s go,” you urge. Rafe’s face is a mix of anger and confusion and regret. You can’t tell if he seriously just got kicked out of his frat over you.

In shock, Rafe lets you pull him out of the house into the quiet night air. It’s the blind leading the blind at this point, your muscles weak as you step out on the sidewalk.

Your dorm is just shy of a ten minute walk away, but you’re not sure you can do it if someone’s not watching out for you.

Rafe’s hands are in his hair as he paces out into the street.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice shaky. “Fuck. Fuck.”

You cross your arms as the cool breeze hits you and watch him through worried eyes.

“It’ll be okay,” you try to console him.

“No, it won’t.” He’s reeling. The brotherhood has a code of conduct. Violating it is a big deal. He fucks up once and he’s done. And on top of all that, he lost you.

“You guys’ll talk it out when you’re sobered up,” you say.

“You don’t fucking get it!” Rafe shouts. His volume startles you and he notices you jolt and it makes him feel a hundred times shittier.

You watch each other in silence for a moment before you speak again.

“I’m not going to stand here and let you yell at me,” you say to him. You turn and head towards your dorm, albeit slowly.

Rafe sighs, watching you walk away from him, knowing he should get used to the feeling. He rushes to catch up to you, reaching you as you pace down the sidewalk. He grips your forearm in case you get weak again.

“Wait,” he mutters impatiently. “Wait, I’m…”

“Why the fuck are you mad at me?” you say, staring ahead, refusing to look at him. “I thought we were friends.”

“Don’t say that word,” Rafe says. “I can’t stand that word.”

It stings. He can’t even see you as a friend now that he’s satisfied with you?

“If we’re not friends, then why get so pissed off at him for leaving me upstairs? If you don’t care about me, why did you do that?” you challenge.

Rafe feels drunk, heavy, and afraid of it coming out wrong.

“I wouldn’t have left you,” he says.

“You left me today,” you say with a pissed off laugh.

His rage and jealousy are clouding his judgement. Deep down, he feels like shit for the way he left you in your bed, but all he can see is red right now.

“Well, I’m not your boyfriend,” Rafe snaps. “He shouldn’t have done that.”

“I told him to, Rafe!” you shout. Embarrassment floods his body. Shit. “You’re the most confusing person I’ve ever fucking met.”

Rafe almost laughs. If he’s confusing to you, you couldn’t imagine living with his brain. It’s constantly tugging him in ten different directions.

You cross the street, arms still crossed, trying not to cry.

“What’s so confusing?” he asks. He can’t stand that you’ve kept your eyes off of him this whole time. “Look at me.”

You stop under a streetlamp on the campus pathway, glaring up at him. He hates how sad you look.

“You’re mean, then you’re nice,” you say. “You don’t want to do couple shit, then you call me your girl. You say you’re satisfied and done with me, then you try to fight Blake for leaving me upstairs. I don’t fucking get you.”

“I never said I was done with you,” Rafe replies.

You scoff. Of course he’s going to pick apart your words and move past the actual subject. All this man does is avoid his feelings. You turn to keep walking, but he steps in front of you.

“I don’t want to be done with you,” he says.

A dangerous feeling of hope blooms in your chest.

“We said it was the last time,” you remind him. “You got what you wanted from me.”

“I…” Rafe looks down and shakes his head. “No. I want more.”

“What… kind of more?” you say, tone softening.

He rakes a hand through his hair and exhales. He’s on not sure he’s ever felt this scared before.

“What kind of more?” you repeat.

“More than just… fucking around,” he finally says. He winces like he’s bracing for the impact of your words.

“I thought you said you don’t want to be tied down,” you say.

“Yeah, ‘cause I think college is supposed to be fun,” he says. “But… being with you would be fun. Being with you is the most fun I’ve...”

Rafe looks down again, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Are you with him?” he says quietly.

“Rafe,” you say with a huff. He just doesn’t see it. “Did I stay with him or did I leave with you?”

He lets the words sink in for a moment. You chose him. Damn. You actually chose him.

“I saw you kiss him,” he says, possibly in a subconscious way to sabotage everything.

You freeze. That must be why he left the beach so suddenly. He saw you with Blake and he couldn’t take it.

“But you didn’t see me telling him that I’m not interested in him like that,” you reply.

A weight lifts off his chest, giving him space to breathe better. Rafe realizes he’s already too deep. If you’re going to break his heart, you might as well break it all the way. At least that way he’ll be sure.

“Do you… do you want me?” he stammers. “As a - a boyfriend? Do you want that?”

He’s never looked so vulnerable to you before. Not even when you walked in on his father berating him. This is a new expression. One he’s been hiding from you.

“You want to be my boyfriend?” you say, a smile curling on your lips, your body going numb.

He awkwardly shuffles in his spot, nervously pushing his hair back again.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Yeah?” Rafe echoes.

“Of course,” you laugh. The fact that you seem so sure makes his heart warm in a way he’s never felt before.

“You’re not just saying that?” he asks.

It hits you like an unexpected storm, like the sudden raindrops on the night on the boat, that maybe Rafe doesn’t think he’s as great as he pretends to be. That it’s all an act, that he feels like he’s not worth loving and he hides it behind ego and coldness.

“Rafe,” you laugh. “No, I’m not just saying that.” You close the distance between you, brushing his bangs off his face, thumbs tracing over his cheekbones.

He looks like he’s still scared that you’re being insincere.

“What if I fuck it up?” he says. “I don’t know how to...” Be a boyfriend.

“We both know you can learn,” you reassure him.

Rafe finally lets himself believe that you really do like him, smiling, dimples caving into his cheeks. The way his eyes light up might just break your heart in the best way.

He doesn’t know if you turned him into someone else, or if he was always this person. But he wants it all. The dates, the affection, the commitment. He wants it all if it’s with you.

Rafe kisses you and this time, he allows himself to feel all the vulnerability he repressed before. You’re doing the same thing.

He doesn’t want to stop tasting your lips and feeling your nose nudge against his as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper.

After you somehow manage to pull yourselves off of each other, Rafe’s fingers lace between yours as you walk the rest of the way back to your dorm.

He knows he left things back at the house in shambles. He knows he probably lost his place in the frat and his future living in the house. He knows his temper fucked him over like it usually does.

But for once in his life, he has someone looking at him like he’s not a complete disappointment.

(part ten)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[b14augrana]

Open Arms

Two players, one last name. Only one of you is suffering from the legacy attached to it

Alexia Putellas x sister!reader

masterlist

Warnings: angst and/or hurt + bit of an inconclusive ending lol not happy or sad kinda just… 🫠

A/N: more alexia angst in the place of aapa pt. 4! heavily inspired by open arms by sza, and i highly recommend that you listen to it because this will make a whole lot more sense if you do + it’s amazing. this song is so dear to my heart and honestly one of my favourites ever, so i had to write something inspired by it because the meaning is so deep and interpretable in many ways. this is just one of them :)

You thought that playing for Barcelona was your lifelong dream.

It was a picturesque scene; two players sharing the same last name stepping onto the pitch in the same jersey. It had been your dream at one point, until you realised the influence of your sister was leading you to believe that.

This set something off in you, like it triggered a chain reaction of thoughts and epiphanies that led up to the inevitable.

It was so hard to shine as your own individual self, when all you were credited for was the name on your back and the uncanny resemblance you had to Alexia. You were good, you were so good, but nobody ever noticed. You knew it would stay like this forever if you didn’t do something for yourself.

You could remember your hometown of Mollet de Vallès to be a place that was rife with FC Barcelona pride; it would’ve been the ultimate betrayal to your neighbourhood if you hadn’t elected to play for the club. It would be the ultimate betrayal to leave them, as well.

You were born and raised in Barcelona. The culture, the people, the club, all of it was surely intertwined into your soul. That wouldn’t stop you from running away from every bit of it and breaking out of the manacles this city held you in.

If it wasn’t for your sister and the fact that all your years spent at the club was deeply rooted in the love you had for her, you would’ve been gone ages ago.

At first, you thought you were just having one of those days when nothing felt like it was going your way, but the feelings persisted and you became more acutely aware of the real problem — you were staying for Alexia, and her feelings were beginning to come above your career and self-esteem.

You could only spend so much time in the dark before you started craving the light. Living in her shadow was simply not good enough. You had spent enough of your life feeling hopeless.

Being on the same team as her meant that the closest you’d ever get to being called good is comparisons to your sister. Alexia was La Reina. Alexia was everything. You? Well… you were barely anything if not Alexia’s little sister, the other less impressive Putellas.

Talks with your agent made the decision you had to make crystal clear; you could continue to be downplayed as long as you stay at Barcelona, or you could leave the club and feel what it’s like to be appreciated for the skill you possess instead of your relations to Alexia.

The hardest part of this entire thing? Telling her.

You could pack your things and book your plane tickets, call your agent and tell him to start negotiating with clubs, let the board know that you’re leaving for good and never turning back, but breaking the news to Alexia was easier said than done.

When you were in her kitchen one night, bearing a burden on your shoulders, you hesitated to speak. The knowledge of your career at Barça coming to an end after one more match was severing your tongue, preventing you from speaking, and eventually you’d cave beneath it and keep it all to yourself until Alexia found out in the worst way possible. The deal was done, you put pen to paper, and you were set to join Bayern Munich. All that was left to do was tell Alexia.

Bayern Munich, so far away from Barcelona, it was perfect. You could restart and build a name for yourself, completely separated from your family name. Even if Alexia did get angry, you would be in Germany within the next month (give or take a week), so what did it matter?

Part of you had faith that she’d understand, recognise your intentions and not take it to heart. The entirety of you hoped and prayed for that.

“Alexia,” you started, turning around in your seat at the dining table to look at her while she poured herself a glass of water. She hummed in response to you, as to indicate that she was listening.

“I’m leaving the club. I’ve signed it — the contract — and it’s done. I’m going to Bayern.”

She turned off the faucet suddenly, standing at the sink with her back to you. Her grip on the glass tightened ever so slightly, and you could hear the deep breath she took.

“What?” she mumbled, turning around to look at you with eyes narrowed in disbelief. You glared at the table, nodding your head slightly.

“I’m going to Bayern,” you repeated, looking up to meet her now widened eyes as she placed her glass down. “I’m leaving Barça.”

She glanced at you, her eyes softening for a moment, and you could tell that she was barely registering the news.

“You can’t,” she responded, “Barça is your home, we belong here, both of us–”

There went any chances of her understanding you. That other part of you that knew she wouldn’t be rational about this, had been proven right. “You belong here, Alexia. I don’t,” you shot back, pointing at her with an almost accusing finger.

“What’s wrong with the club?” Alexia snapped. You glared at her, your angered façade crumbling away to reveal the true sadness that remained behind it.

“This club is your dream, (Y/N). I mean, I don’t get it,” she laughed, her expression seeping with disbelief, “You love it here, I love you here– don’t you remember? We used to talk about retiring here together, assisting each other and scoring from each other’s passes. Remember how you’ve always wanted to score a bicycle kick off one of my corners? Why do you want to leave, when we haven’t done all this, when there’s still so much for us to achieve?”

It wasn’t her fault that everyone kept you in the dark. Alexia would never want you at Barça if she knew this was going to happen. Still, you couldn’t cave now. There was no use in regretting anything, because it was done. Maybe if you had told her about your plans to leave, you would’ve felt this regret earlier, and things would’ve been different. Empty ‘what-ifs’ only reminded you that it was too late.

But still, her plea to make you stay was solely built on whatever regarded her. Not a single thing about what you wanted to do was taken into consideration.

“Tell me what made you want to leave, and I’ll make them change it. Just don’t ruin your career by leaving,” she continued.

“You know what?” you started, standing up so you were eye-to-eye with your sister, “I thought you out of all people would understand, but no. You’re selfish, Alexia. This is what’s best for me, I can’t stay here if I want to be any good!”

You were yelling, and you never liked to yell, but it felt like the only way to properly convey your feelings to the woman.

“I’m not even second best to you. Sometimes I feel like I’m only kept at this club to make you look good, and I am so, so sick of it. For years I’ve– I have no confidence left, no sense of pride in myself, I barely ever feel happy wearing this jersey because it’s always been your dream, not mine! I’m not the Putellas that belongs here, everyone knows that, so don’t try to make me stay because this is my only chance to be great. I want to be great, Alexia, and you should know better than anyone what it’s like to want that.”

It was only normal that you began to tear up amidst your words, and they trembled on your waterline as you spoke.

Alexia looked defeated.

More than anything, she felt unbridled amounts of guilt running rife through her. She wanted to reach out to you, hug you, tell you that everything would be alright and she never looked at you as a dim light that made hers look brighter, but she was glued to the spot, her muscles twitching and urging her to step forward with no avail.

“I love you, and I’ve stayed all this time for you. Honestly, I never even wanted to stay. You’re the only one that’s holding me down.” It was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and in its place sat a mix of relief and guilt.

Alexia stayed silent, only a singular tear slipping down her cheek, the start of many that she would shed behind closed doors that night. It was more than just losing a teammate to her, and she wasn’t so emotional because her sister was leaving; it was the realisation that she didn’t know you very well in the first place, and the culpability of realising that she really had been holding you down.

That conversation was one of the last you had with Alexia in person. You played one last match for the Blaugrana, and then you left for Germany the following week.

Even weeks of knowing prior to your final match couldn’t soften the blow as Alexia stood on the pitch, clapping for you as you waved goodbye to the fans and teammates alike, tears brimming in your eyes that were akin to the ones rolling down her cheeks.

She walked up to you, and she embraced you like she never has before, like you were disappearing into nothingness instead of another country. You gripped her tightly, savouring the hug and trying to memorise the feeling, and when she pulled away, she had a pensive smile on her face.

“If you ever want to come back to me, I’ll always be right here with open arms. Cuídate, hermana.”

[thesirencult]

How Does Your Crush See You

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PILE 1

Your crush sees you as someone giving, forgiving, abundant and grounded. They might find you "too practical" at times, as you are someone who is mostly focused on work/education.

Your person is probably someone you've met through family or is a close family friend. They see you as part of their extended family. This screams "childhood friends to lovers".

I believe that you are aware about their feelings and thoughts about you. Whatever your intuition says, that's it! A few of you have caught this person staring or their hand lingered for too long on your waist. These are clear signs there is something there. If they look indifferent and nonchalant then they do not view you romantically.

For those of you wondering "are those signs they like me?" yes, they are! Your relationship though is making this person feel burdened.

They would love to be with you but are afraid a confession will mess up everything between you. They also might have a few issues in their life right now and they don't want to bring you any drama.

The same might apply to you. Right now you are busy and have other things on your plate, that's what they think about you right now.

All in all, this pile will apply to you if your crush is someone close to you or your family or a coworker who might have taken you under their wing. Sidenote: This person knows you personally so they have a pretty clear image of who you are. Take care xoxo S...

PILE 2

TW: Mention of anxiety, depression and struggle.

Your crush sees you through a blurry lens, for them, nothing is clear about you. You confuse them. If I had to write a short story about you two, it would be titled "The Girl On The Train", you doing a daily activity and they are there too, staring at you from afar, waiting for you to turn and look at them, locating them and as your eyes lock, you know this person lives their life parallel with yours, always there but never touching. Your soundtrack would have been "Poison Tree by Grouper" and "Limerance by Yves Tumor".

This person, based on the feeling I get from these two songs and their overall energy, is someone who feels like they are screaming while being underwater. They need someone who will see the real them, behind the facade. They might struggle with anxiety and depression and they can tell you have a similar vibe to them. There is something about you, they can't put their finger on it. You are like a ghost to them and they are the only ones who have the magical ability to look at you and admire your beauty. They are not doing it in a creepy way though, they are sweet. They also feel quite sad cause they don't know how to approach you.

In their mind they believe you two would have amazing, deep, heartfelt conversations, no judging involved, just two open arms and lots of crying. They are soft in their core and for some reason they believe you would be able to heal them. They fantasize about touching your hair or kissing your face and wiping away tears.

The 10 of Cups also came out though, so I would say they find you very sweet, someone they would love to have as a soulmate, but they think they do not deserve someon as pure and beautiful inside and out. You are their sweet escape and they would love to get lost in your own world. It's like you are underwater and they want to come in with you, even if they drown. This person believes that love can only be felt in the darkness, the quiet, the 3AM when everyone is sleeping or partying but you are together, sitting in silence and staring into eachother's souls.

PILE 3

Pink Matter by Frank Ocean (Slowed...)

BIttersuit by Billie Eilish

This person, ahhhh, your crush is the epitome of a "soft boi" on the inside. They might not look like someone soft or particularly sweet but their eyes, aww, they make you melt! Their exterior makes you wonder "why am I attracted to them? this is wrong!" This person is meant to teach how to fall in love, crazily and with no logical explanation. You are someone who knows how to love but not how to fall in love.

You have the hierophant/ high priestess energy. For them you are way above their level. You are on a different plane, interstellar. Untouchable. You are the keeper of the sacred and that p/d is sacred, damn! In the song above, the man comes to the conclusion that women's bodies are not just vessels for men to fill or for babies to be made, they are sacred. He talks about his lover like a goddess. If you have already slept with this person you have DESTROYED them for others, or if you sleep with them at some point, it's over, you are a Goddess and they have been a lucky mortal that got to touch you.

Also, if you are curvy/thick they actually love that. In the song there is a lyric about "models are for modelling thick girls are for cuddling". I want to say that this person might be a bit toxic when it comes to those stereotypes. They might follow a lot of instagram models who fit the beauty standard, or you know that their previous gf looked like a model yet they don't consider them "marriage material". Like, this person can have bad habits (smoking, drinking, driving fast, p*rn) and this is driving you insane, because they are not your type, but what I'm seeing is that this person is at a point in their lives that they have started reconsidering their actions and you will play a big part in that.

This person is not that experienced in love. They are experienced when it comes to matters of the flesh but once they are in love they turn to jello. They think about you particularly when they get h*gh. They had a revelation about you while being stoned or in a dream. They find you very beautiful and if you walked up to them and told them you want to lose excessive amounts of weight or you don't feel beautiful they would be SHOOK! They are like "why change perfection?" OH, they are also telling me, tell them to not listen to their bad thoughts" and they want to tell you they know that what they think about you doesn't align with how you view yourself. You think you are a goblin and they see you as an Aphrodite/Cleopatra.

They know you are traditional and serious, wise and calm and they want some of that. They want a spiritual person by their side and someone who will look deeper. They are well aware that you are an unlikely match. The chances they get with you are veryyyy slim. I'm hearing "I don't have a chance, but I'll try."

Wow, don't get scared if they approach and do not reject them. They have a huge heart. Also, the miss your presence if they haven't seen you in a while. They have a crush on you and their friends make fun of them, because it started in a joking manner, they might see you in passing. As an example, they might ride a mototrcycle and they see you almost everyday passing by the park or the beach and they tell their friends "Oh I saw my girl yesterday. She's so hot. There is somthing about her" and now they've been telling them "Have you guys seen my wife? I haven't seen her in a week." Their friends think they are joking but they truly miss you !

[cornsoupflavour]

Trip to Paradise (Krystal Jung NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

Requested, Story Beats, Story Plot by: @sunshinesmoonshines

f(x) Krystal Jung x Male Reader

Tags: 7.0k words, multiple creampies, public sex, risky sex, mentions of breeding/impreg, heavy romance

The life of a K–Pop idol is stressful, and there are times where idols would take a step back from the limelight to enjoy a little solitude away from it all. Krystal Jung, from f(x) is one such idol. The pressure to perform and pop out gradually got to her and she decided that now would be a good time to go on a hiatus and take a vacation to help ease her body and mind. Krystal was looking for more than just a holiday, however. She was on a little search for love.

Krystal had decided to take a one–month holiday in the gorgeous city of Venice, Italy. She wanted to experience its exquisite beauty, history and especially, its romance. As the days went on, she found herself slowly falling more and more in love with the city. She was checked into an authentic, Italian bed and breakfast situated near the Grand Canal. The sound of creaking of wood and the warm, flickering candlelight added to its ambiance. The whole atmosphere put her at ease instantaneously.

On her first day there, Krystal visited St. Mark's Square. The vast expanse of its piazza, dotted with cafes, tourists and even pigeons captured her heart instantly. The architecture of St. Mark's Basilica and the towering Campanile exuded a feeling of luxury. She was impressed. But it was the charm of daily life that truly captivated her. A street musician playing a moving serenade caught her attention. She stood before him for a moment, watching as he coaxed sweet melodies from his violin. She wondered if she should sample that for a song.

As the sun began to set, it casted an orange glow over the city. Krystal found herself wandering along the narrow and cobblestone streets, crossing over countless bridges that arched over the iconic winding canals. She couldn't help but feel captivated by the gondolas smoothly gliding by, their gondoliers gracing her ears with soulful Italian songs.

On one of the bridges, she saw a group of young locals. They were laughing and flirting with each other. A young man from the group noticed Krystal staring. He smiled at her, revealing dimples that pierced his cheeks. He gave her a small wave, making her flustered. She returned the gesture shyly before moving on.

She felt a slight ache in her heart, sad that she hasn't been able to truly experience the wonders of being with someone due to her job as an idol. But then again, this was the trip to attempt something like that. She carried on walking for a while before deciding she should head back to the BnB.

As she arrived at the door to the BnB, she bumped into you. Her ears perked up slightly as she took in the full sight of you. You did the same, a little taken aback by her beauty.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" you asked, lightly holding her still.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I'm sorry, are you another guest here? I don't think I've seen you..." she asked, her eyes checking you out slightly. Krystal had already met all the other guests who were staying at the BnB, the one other guest that isn't you.

"Oh, uhh, no. I'm actually the owner's son." You replied, a warm smile forming on your lips. You raised a hand out as you both introduced yourself to one another. "Oh wow, you're from Korea? You must be a model or something, you're beautiful!"

The light flirt sent a red blush to creep up Krystal's cheeks. "Oh, stop it, you~" she playfully waved her hand. The dim lighting of the BnB entrance casted an inviting warmth on both your faces.

"No, really, you're a natural beauty," you said genuinely, your lips curving up into a cheeky smile. Krystal felt a surge of happiness hearing the sincerity in your voice. "But it's getting dark, please come in. I hope I'm not making you late for anything."

"Oh, no, no... You're not. But I do think I should head back to my room..." her voice trailed off a little.

"How about you show me around town tomorrow? It'll be nice having a tour guide for myself~"

"Oh? A–Alright then, I'll see you back here in the morning. Have a great rest." The two of you parted ways, both sporting a wide and warm smile on your lips. You knew the type of business your father runs would definitely attract some attractive individuals... but one as astronomically beautiful as she is? Feels like a dream.

As the night went on, the both of you felt a slight buzz. It was like you couldn't wait to see each other again despite the short interaction. You managed to put your excited selves to sleep. The next morning, you eagerly awaited Krystal at the lobby of the BnB. You stared in awe as she descended the stairs from the top floor in a form–fitting grey sleeveless dress.

"So, shall we?"

You took a moment to check her out, taking in the full sight of her glowing allure. "Y–Yeah, let's go... Wow, you are just– stunning–"

"Thank you," Krystal replied with a grateful smile.

Your sentences struggled to come out as you battled the many thoughts in your head. You managed to snap out of it a few moments later, and ushered her over to your car. Luckily for you, there won't be any check–ins scheduled for the day, so you are free to spend it with this heaven–sent individual.

Krystal sauntered over as you held the door open for her. In a slightly seductive yet graceful movement, she ducked in, taking a seat beside yours in the car. "I must say, owning a BnB in such a beautiful place... must be a dream come true."

You chuckled softly, as you rounded the car to get to the driver's seat. You inserted the key into the ignition. "Yeah, it's wonderful. I don't usually work here since my dad runs the place. But when I do cover for him, it feels like it could be my dream job."

Krystal chuckled, leaning back against the seat. "I can see why you'd enjoy this job. The BnB, the city, the people... it's all just so breathtaking."

You chose to bring her to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection to admire the beauty of Italian art before bringing her around to savour the rich flavours of Italian cuisine in hidden trattorias, allowing her to lose herself in the quieter corners of the city.

"Wow..." she gasped as she gazed upon the artworks.

You were pleased to watch her take in the art with the same fascination you have. You both wind up standing in front of a large piece, both of you unable to speak for a moment.

Krystal bites her lower lip, eyes still fixated on the painting. "It's... It's different. Not something I've seen before. But I like it..."

The two of you continued to gaze at the works before taking an adventure through the winding alleyways to let her have a taste of the most authentic of Italian cuisines. However, you made sure to hold off from some of the tastier stores to ensure she'd still have more to try later on during her trip.

Over the next two weeks or so, Krystal explored every nook and cranny that Venice has to offer with your guidance. You both went from strolling down the Rialto Bridge to indulging in gelato in the quaint Campo San Polo. You even spent long afternoons lounging in the lush gardens of Giardini Pubblici as you watched the sunset together from the quiet vantage points of Dorsuduro.

You two would go on long–winding yet engaging conversations about your daily lives. Krystal held off from speaking about her experience as a K–Pop idol as she felt a genuine connection forming between the two of you. That revelation may have brought about a positive or negative reaction, but she wasn't willing to take that risk... It was hard not to though, as she felt herself falling for you... hard.

You were falling hard too. In between those conversations, you'd find yourselves lost in each other's eyes, the chemistry between you palpable. Sometimes your fingers would touch, and you'd imagine yourself stealing brief kisses under the veil of twilight. But most often, you'd simply sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the company of someone who wasn't just beautiful on the outside but also within.

After spending two weeks together, the both of you enjoyed each other's presence despite just touring the city with each other. The odd familiarity and comfort you both shared had grown, and you both secretly yearned for more. 

Krystal bit her tongue as she waited for you to take the initiative as you did the same. Eventually, she couldn't take it. She called your phone, asking if you'd be down to visit her in her room for some games to alleviate her boredom. Little did you know, she had something else planned.

"Krystal? Hey– I– Yeah, I'd love that actually. I'll be there in a bit."

You grabbed your things and made your way over, waving to your dad on the way in. The man sat behind the counter and smiled warmly, enjoying his peace while there wasn't the issue of guests checking in.

Arriving at her room, you knocked gently on the door. Krystal opened it, welcoming you with the sight of her in a comfortable outfit of a white tank top and some pink pants. Her hair cascaded in loose, free–flowing waves. The sight took you by surprise, such a casual set of clothes and yet she still is breathtakingly gorgeous.

"Hey, please, come in," Krystal greeted with an inviting smile.

You stepped inside, your eyes momentarily roaming her figure. You weren't as subtle as you wanted to be as Krystal caught wind of that. You looked around the room as you waited for her. "Thanks for inviting me, I'll leave the game choice up to you."

"Oh, I've got something in mind. Stay right here while I get everything ready," Krystal replied, guiding you to the couch.

As you sat down, you could hear some rustling and searching happening behind you. "Hey, do you need any help?" You offered. You were met with a reassuring no. After a while, Krystal placed a deck of cards on the coffee table, along with a pair of wine glasses and a bottle of red wine.

She sat down next to you, your thighs brushing against hers gently. Krystal picked up the deck of cards. "Ever played strip poker?"

A smile tugged at your lips, and your heart raced. "S–Strip poker? Not exactly... but I'm down to give it a try," you replied, glazing at her with a slight hint of lust in your eyes.

Krystal bit her lower lip, a playful shine washing over her eyes. "Alrighty then, strip poker's one main rule is that the loser has to take off one piece of clothing. Fair?"

"Sounds good to me."

With a smile she began shuffling the cards before handing them to you to do the same. Krystal dealt them out, and you both set about plalying. The game was intense, the suspense ran rampant as card after card fell, revealing the fates of your pieces of clothing. The hours passed quickly, and the room grew warmer as you both shed more layers. Krystal's tank top clung to her curves as you sat across from her in just your boxers. The wine wasn't helping either, making you both tipsy.

"Looks like you're the current loser~" Krystal teased, her eyes lingering on your chest.

With a devious and slightly inebriated grin, you reached over and pulled her tank top off, revealing her supple A–Cup breasts partially concealed by a black lace bra. Krystal's breath hitched and her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.

What you did finally clicked in your mind as you stood there, mouth agape and completely shocked at what you'd just done. Eyes wide, you stared at her, unable to move or do anything else.

The game paused, with both of you locked in each other's gaze, the air was thick with an unspoken desire. A few moments later, she leaned in, her lips hovering above yours as she whispered, "I think you've made your intentions pretty clear... and I can't say I don't feel the same way... Let's just end the game here."

You nodded, a trembling exhale escaped both your lips, and finally the two of you surrendered yourselves to the passion. She stood up, and sauntered over to you, straddling your lap with a swaying motion. She claimed your lips in a fiery kiss as your hands traveled each other's bodies, yearning for the touch you've both been craving for weeks.

Your hands continued to explore each other's bodies. Her soft breasts fit so perfectly into your hand as you kneaded them. You shifted your position a little, allowing you to pay special attention to her midriff, kissing and nibbling at every inch of her skin. Krystal shivered under your touch, her moans growing louder.

"Mmmh, aahh~ Y/N, that..." she gasped, her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

You slid down her body, your mouth watering to taste her. You began with small kisses near her belly button before slowly parting her legs. Her soft moans filled the room as you started to pleasure her with your tongue. You prodded and licked her pussy with your tongue, letting your taste buds take in the flavour of her honeyed core.

Krystal's body arched as she let out a guttural moan. "Mmmm, Y/N... you feel– you're doing so fucking well..."

Two of your fingers joined your tongue, teasing her, and bringing her ever closer to the edge. Krystal's body tensed, you could see her eyes screwed shut, her hand gripping the sides of your head. "Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck yes... don't you dare stop..."

You gave her insides a few more licks before withdrawing your mouth from her. She looked at you with a mixture of lust, desperation and slight frustration. Her eyes begged for you to continue. You grinned, leaving a trail of kisses along her inner thighs, all the way up to her soft and sweet lips. "Hold on, we're just getting started~" you whispered into her ear.

A smug smirk appeared on her lips as her body relaxed slightly, returning your kisses as you repositioned her onto her back. Her legs draped over your shoulders as you two settled in the missionary position. Your lips connected in a passionate and sloppy kiss as she began to reach her arm out towards the dresser.

"Wait, Y/N."

"Mmmh– yeah?" You pulled away momentarily to see she'd pulled out a condom packet.

"I know we both want it as raw as possible... and I really want you to just knock me up, but since it's our first time, let's use these."

"Oh shit, yeah– of course."

Fearing she ruined the momentum, she brought her lips to yours once more as she tore out one of the condoms. Her hands were soft and gentle as she reached in between your sweaty bodies to sheath your member with the rubber.

Before long, it was on and you were both set to begin deeper exploration of one another. Her eyes gazed into yours, never leaving yours as you slowly entered her. Krystal's eyes widened, and she let out a soft gasp.

You moved at a steady pace, your thrusts syncing with the deepening of your kisses. Krystal wrapped her arms around your neck, her legs coiling themselves around your waist, encouraging you to go harder, faster, and deeper.

"That's it– Fuck me, Y/N– Harder~" Krystal panted.

You obliged, ramming your hips into her at an even quicker pace, your tip slamming against something inside her. She wasn't calling for a stop so that must mean she's loving it. Her eyes rolled back into her head with every thrust.

Her moans grew louder as you felt her tightening around your shaft. You bit your lip as you began to feel yourself struggle with holding back. After a while, you felt Krystal was ready for a little change. With your cock still buried in her depths, you helped her move onto her hands and knees as you slammed into her in the cowgirl position. You graced her tight ass with a myriad of slaps, leaving a red patch on her cheeks.

She began throwing it back towards you, and before long, she overpowered you. She adjusted herself to ride you, reverse cowgirl style. You laid on your back as she rode you to kingdom come. She leaned forward as she threw her head back, her breasts swayed with every movement.

"NNGH– THAT'S IT– FUCK ME–" Krystal urged, her voice raspy with desire.

You leaned upwards a little and reached around her. Your hands grasped onto her perky tits and began fondling them. You pinched her nipples and rolled them between your fingers. Krystal's moans became louder and you could feel her walls tightening around you, signaling she was close to climax.

She leaned all the way back, her hands rose to her tits as she squeezed them hard. "FUCK, YESSS~!" she screamed as she came hard, coating your cock in her juices. You continued to thrust into her as she shivered and gasped.

"God fucking damn– Krystal– you're so fucking sexy... I... I love your ass–" you groaned as you squeezed her ass cheeks hard.

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as she chuckled, "Y/N– I think from now on– I'm all yours– Just fuck me till we're both screaming each other's names~"

You complied, your thrusts becoming faster, harder, and stronger to match her words. You could feel yourself bottoming her out. Krystal eventually flopped forward onto her elbows, her pussy still impaled on your member. You could tell you were both frustrated from the presence of the condom but it had to stay on for safety.

The both of you paused for a brief moment before you helped her move back into doggystyle. You began plunging yourself into her once more, her back arching towards the bed. "God– Just like that, Y/N– You're making me feel so good~"

You could feel it, the sensation building within you. You could feel it building within her too, her walls clenching once more. You gritted your teeth as you did your best to hold back, but the sound of her sultry moans and the sight of her cute ass got the better of you. You were about to explode as she screamed out in pure ecstasy.

"YES– YES– FUCK, I'M CUMMINGG~!" her body shuddered with delight as her arms stretched out. You let out a loud grunt as you began your climax, your thrusts turning erratic and fast. As you pulled out, you flipped Krystal onto her back. She laid there, seductively, her sweaty body splayed out.

"Let me just–" she reached down and peeled the condom off your throbbing member. You stroked your shaft desperately as you brought your fingers to her pussy. Your thumb pressed against her clit while her fingers slid into her at a quickened pace. Krystal's body tensed again, her moans echoed in the room.

She returned the favour, wrapping her delicate fingers around your cock and jerked you off in a cockscrew motion. "That's it– Don't stop, Y/N– You're getting me so close again–" she whimpered. You could sense her orgasm arriving as yours did as well.

You both shared a knowing look as she pulled your face down for a romantic kiss. "Finish on my tits–" she ordered. You obliged, aligning yourself perfectly so that both of you could climax at the same time. You backed away slightly as she spread her legs out and moaned out your name.

It wasn't long before you both let out guttural moans as your orgasms peaked. Krystal drew your eyes to her tits and cleavage, giving you a place to aim your cock at. A moment later,  her chest became covered as you shot ropes all over her pretty little tits. Your fingers were clamped in her pussy as she began squirting hard.

After a while, your movements slowed and you slumped onto the floor, leaving her spread out on the couch. You brought your fingers up to your mouth, they glistened with her bodily juices. You stuck them into your mouth as you tasted her nectar.

As you peered up towards her, you could see her eyes were full of lust. Both of you were slick with sweat, your chests heaving. "Holy fuck– Y/N... You– You're incredible..."

"You were too... I don't think I've ever had sex that good–"

You both giggled, your hearts pounding, your breaths catching as you slowly recovered from the ethereal sexual encounter. Slowly, you both rose to your feet and cleaned up. Afterwards, the two of you slumped back onto the couch and embraced each other tightly. You both snuggled, sharing small and sweet kisses.

"Thank you, for tonight... It's been rough finding love like this in Korea."

"No, thank YOU for inviting me over tonight. But why's that? I'm sure there are plenty of amazing Korean men."

Krystal paused for a while, her face a little uneasy. "Hey, if you aren't comfortable with sharing, you don't have to."

"No, it's not that... it's just..."

You stayed silent, letting her have the floor.

"...I'm actually an idol... and usually it's taboo for us to partake in these kinds of relationships..."

You acknowledged her revelation, bringing her hand up to your lips to kiss it in hopes it'd help make her feel safer.

"Like those K–Pop people– the artists?"

She nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips as you kissed her ever so gently.

"Ah, I see... and you can't find love in Korea because it may negatively affect your career, got it... Well, I will say, you've come to the right place. And seeing as we've just had the most amazing sex ever, I'd love to be that little taboo lover of yours~"

Krystal couldn't help but giggle at your proposal. The genuine smile that appeared on her face spoke volumes of how much she appreciated the sentiment. You shared a loving kiss as the both of you basked in the warmth of your embrace.

The two of you continued to spend time together all throughout the night. In the morning, you made the hard decision of heading back home, Krystal playfully pouting and fluttering her eyelids. You gave her a long and loving kiss on the lips before heading out. On the way down you bumped into your father. The both of you shared a knowing look and he ensured you that the rooms were soundproof. You kept that tidbit of information in mind for the future.

And as the next few weeks went by, you shared romantic dinners to late night strolls. You both soaked up every moment, cherishing the opportunity to be together. One such opportunity was a carnival date. It was an example of your carefree bonding, and you both thought you'd spice things up a little with a challenge.

Krystal's eyes sparkled as she led you around the various attractions, her fingers intertwined with yours. "Let's play some games, Y/N. You seem like you'd be good at winning prizes."

Krystal, dressed in a grey top with a pair of sunglasses hanging from its neckline, Adidas shorts, a denim jacket, and her gorgeous brown hair down in slightly messy but still–kept waves. She was the other party in the proposed challenge. As you both go through the challenges, you emerge victorious, a mischievous grin formed on your lips.

"Well, looks like I won~ And as a reward, I want you to treat us to some ice cream and refreshments. How's that sound?"

Krystal rolled her eyes, playfully shaking her head, but relenting nonetheless. Soon, she returned with two cups of ice cream, two bottles of water and a bag of chips. "Here you go, your Highness. Please, enjoy your spoils," she said sarcastically as she handed you one of the ice creams and a bottle of water. The two of you giggled before setting off in search of a private spot to enjoy your treats.

You led her to the perfect secluded bench. Rich greenery offered the both of you privacy as you sat down. Your eyes glistened a little as you watched her get settled onto the bench, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

As you both got situated on the bench, Krystal turned to you and whispered into your ear. "So, what do you think of all this? I mean– like we both OBVIOUSLY like each other, and y'know... there's definitely something special between us... I know you said you wanted to be my little taboo secret but... shall we make it official?"

"I think we should. Or at least we should try and make it work," you responded, your voice hushed yet firm. "I promise we'll figure it all out. Besides, if things go south, you could come and stay here with me~"

Krystal chuckled as she playfully smacked your arm. She placed a sweet and lingering kiss before pulling away. "Oh yeah, you wish, right?"

You wrapped your arm around her as you both cuddled on the bench. Krystal couldn't help but blush as she felt your arm around her waist, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. Her surprise was evident when you began to caress her thigh. She allowed herself to let go, indulging in the moment. As your hand slipped beneath her shorts, she gasped softly, only to stifle her moan with her hand while you fingered her.

Krystal let out more soft moans as your lips continued to meet hers. The PDA intensified with each movement. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried biting her lips to suppress the growing moans. She could feel herself surrendering to you under your touch.

Your fingers moved with skill and expertise as your mouth met her breasts. She raised her denim jacket to conceal the inappropriate act as her hips began to rock against your fingers, pushing them even deeper. She felt more alive than ever, the illicitness of the act... on a public bench in the middle of the day... she could feel the adrenaline surging through her veins.

It wasn't long till her body spasmed, cumming from the sheer pleasure you brought her. But as she came down from her high, she looked dazed. She urged you to find a more hidden spot and you decided to lead her to the men's bathroom. She stood up and straightened herself out, her eyes lingering on the bulge in your pants. A devilish grin crossed her face as she sneakily entered the men's restroom with you.

The both of you shambled into a stall, your lips unable to leave the other. Inside the stall, you began to undress her, leaving her completely exposed except for ther shoes. She obediently lifted her, granting you easier access to her slit. You began pleasuring her again, this time with a combination of your mouth and fingers. The stall's soundproofing against the bustling restroom allowed her to surrender fully to the pleasure.

Krystal's moans grew in intensity, her legs quivered as you inserted a third finger. Every time you plunged your digits into her, her body reacted. The wet squelching sounds echoed within the stall. As the restroom grew busier, she tried her best to suppress her moans. Each time someone would knock on the stall door, she'd give subtle knocks back.

Seeing how ready she was, you removed your own clothes. You placed them on top of the toilet basin with hers. You positioned yourself in between her legs, one lifted over your shoulder and the other steady on the ground. You shared a look of anticipation and slight anxiety.

"This is gonna be the first time I've done it raw... Give it to me good, alright?"

"Yes ma'am~" you responded before pushing your lips onto hers. As you were both engaged in a sloppy kiss, you plunged your throbbing member into her wet entrance. The raw feeling of her insides made your legs tremble. You wanted to cum at that very moment, but you wanted to at least give her some pleasure.

You began thrusting at a desperate pace. The both of you moaned out each other's names as you felt your tip slamming against her insides. You exchanged saliva as her moans entered your ears like a harmonious tune. Krystal began to shiver and gasp as she climaxed, her juices spraying out onto the stall wall.

You couldn't help but reach down and play with her clit, licking your fingers once in a while to get her taste.

Switching positions, Krystal straddled you on the toilet seat, moving in sync with your body. Your hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer as she started to grind herself against you with a familiar desperation. You matched her rhythm, your hips leaving the seat occasionally.

"Aahh, Y/N, I'm..." she moaned softly, her voice tinged with lust.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." she continued, her grinds growing more insistent.

Krystal's breathing became erratic, and her movements became more forceful. The sounds of your hips slamming into one another filled the air as you nibbled on her neck. You both could feel the approaching climax.

The accidental collision of your hips with the seat sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she couldn't help but let out a guttural groan. "Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don't stop..." she whimpered, her nails digging into your shoulders.

As you both approached climax, Krystal's body tensed, her movements wild and unrestrained. "THAT'S IT– FUCK ME, BABY– KNOCK ME UP–" she cried out, her voice shaking with the intensity of her pleasure.

You couldn't tell if she was serious but hearing her voice moan out like that? You couldn't take it. You took one of her soft perky breasts into your mouth as you bucked your hips upwards, burying your member in her depths before exploding, flooding her insides with your hot seed.

With a few final breaths, you both climaxed hard, your bodies quaking intensely as you sat on the toilet seat. You grabbed the sides of each other's face and started a sloppy makeout as you both let the pleasure seap out.

"Holy shit– I– Wow–"

"I know– I've never had sex in public before... but you're making me wanna do it more..."

Krystal chuckled as she leaned back, her body still impaled on your shaft. She looked at the time and realised it was starting to get late. She begrudgingly pulled herself off of you and quickly put her panties back on, sealing the cum inside her. She stood in a cute superhero pose, her perky tits jiggling with each movement.

The both of you cleaned each other up and left the restroom while no one was around. As the sky got dark, you opted to walk Krystal back to the BnB. Your father, already catching onto the brewing relationship, gave you another key for the room, allowing you to stay with her for a bit. You two walked back to Krystal's room, hand in hand, the night was still young. But you both had a long fun–filled day, and it was time to get some rest.

A few days later, the both of you found yourselves at the airport, your faces inches away from the other. She had her luggage with her as she stood there in a white button up and jean shorts. Your eyes brimmed with fake tears as you looked towards the floor, attempting to make her laugh through the sadness of the situation. Krystal, unable to hold back, chuckled before hugging you tightly.

"Aww, you're gonna miss me? I know, I know, baby... You can always come and visit me in Seoul~" she teased with a hint of sadness in her voice as she rubbed your back with her hand.

"Yeah, of course. Every chance I get, I'll be there~" you snapped out of your little fake crying fit to reciprocate the hug. Your arms embraced her tightly as you lifted her off the ground, spinning her around. As you spun, you planted a series of kisses on her forehead, cheeks and lips.

"Promise you'll come back to see me too, you know that room in the BnB will forever be reserved for you~" your sweet words touched her. The both of you couldn't help but cuddle and kiss as if no one else existed around you. Your surroundings faded into nothing as the only thing that mattered was the love you both shared.

With several hours left before her flight, you both decided to make the most of the remaining time. Krystal grabbed your wrist and brought you to the private lounge where she left her baggage at. She pushed you into the restroom and locked the door behind her. Such a bold move, what if someone saw...

She began to undress you methodically. She started with your shirt, undoing your buttons slowly and seductively, kissing your neck as she does so. She then moved to your belt, unbuckling it and pulling it off. Lastly, she undid your pants, letting them fall and pool around your feet.

"Mmmh~ That's a whole lot of man... Luckily for me, he's all mine~"

"All yours, baby–"

She gave you a desperate and fiery kiss before taking a handkerchief out from your shirt pocket and stuffing it into your mouth. "Shhh..." she whispered as she gave you a wink.

She knelt down and pushed your underwear down, revealing your semi–erect cock. She let out a small moan as her eyes remained fixated on your rod. She stood up and pulled you towards the mirror. You faced the mirror as you watched her through the reflection.

She slowly and flirtatiously undressed, giving you long looks at her ample body. You bit down on the handkerchief, reeling from the fact that you couldn't just ravage her right there and then. Well, you could, but there must be a reason she made you face the mirror right?

She removed her top, revealing her beautiful breasts. Your eyes zoned in on her nipples, almost salivating at the sight of them. They were hard nubs because of the cold restroom air. She approached you from behind as she wrapped her hands around your shaft. Your eyes widened as a muffled moan escaped from your handkerchief.

Krystal began to stroke you, her hand moving in slow deliberate cockscrews. She would occasionally spit on your cock for extra lubrication. She whispered into your ear, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

As her hands went into a rhythm, her grip tightened, and she started to pump you up and down. You could feel her thumb cradling your cockhead, rubbing the precum slicked head in slow and sloppy circles. Each pump became faster, a loud squelching sound emitted from your cock as her saliva mixed with your precum. Your shaft would glisten with the mixture, reflecting the fluorescent lights of the washroom.

"Mmmh~ Y/N, I bet you're gonna cum so hard for me, right? You wanna cover my delicate hands with your thick... creamy... hot seed, huh?" Krystal's warm breath tickled your earlobe, her lips grazing it. "Feel my fingers... feel them moving up and down your hard... throbbing cock... You like that, don't you?"

The sensation of her hot breath, her hand and the mirror's reflection of her had you on edge. You neared the brink of ecstasy as she increased her pace. The sound of her wrist slapping against your stomach. Her hand glided on your shaft smoothly. The sounds that were emanating from the activity were loud and erotic.

You could see her tongue licking her lips every so often through the reflection in the mirror. It was like she was staring at her favourite meal. And you liked that. You liked feeling like her beloved snack. Because in your eyes, that was what she was to you.

Her hand twisted, coaxing your cock to release more precum and increase the lubrication. You could feel her nails slightly brushing against your shaft, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Cum for me, baby~ Show me... Show me how much you'll miss me... I know I'll miss touching you... So go on, darling... Show me~"

You couldn't hold it any longer, your semen began pooling at the base of your cock. Krystal sensed it too, and without warning, her hands began moving at a furious pace. You let go. Your body shuddered and spasmed as you erupted, shooting globs of hot cum all over her hands, the mirror and the sink. Her hands kept working you, milking you for every last drop before eventually slowing to a stop.

You panted and grunted as your body trembled from the pleasure. She looked at the mess you made all over the mirror, her tongue running over her lips, a wicked grin on her face.

"Ah, how was that for a parting gift? I hope it was worth it..." her voice trailed off as she playfully pouted. She brought her hand up to her lips and licked all of your cum off her hands.

She pulled the handkerchief out of your mouth and kissed you passionately before leading you both to the toilet seat. She shedded her jean shorts. You sat down, eagerly as she mounted you, pushing your face in between her pointy tits. You couldn't help but rub your face on them, letting your tongue lick her hardened nubs.

She grinded her hips against yours, the warm wetness of her pussy smeared against your cock.

"Mmm~ Look how wet you've made me... You'll have to take responsibility for this..." she purred, her voice tinged with lust.

You were quick to tease her, sticking two of your fingers inside her. Her walls tightened and spasmed around them. You began to finger her as she continued to grind on your throbbing member. The two of you matched the other's rhythm, the sounds of hips slamming against one another filled the room.

Her moans gradually grew louder as your fingers increased their pace, moving in and out of her. Adding a third finger, you watched her body tense up as she arched her back, pulling you further into her fragrant chest. Krystal swayed, her body reacting to the stimulation as the wet squelching of her insides echoed throughout the room.

"Ahhn~ Y/N, I need–" she moaned, a guttural groan escaping her lips.

"Fuck me, Y/N– please– I want you inside me–" she begged. You looked up into her eyes as they pleaded for the chance to have you ravage her insides one last time.

You obliged, sliding your cock into her wet and warm slit. The feeling of raw penetration sent waves of shivers all throughout your body. You began bucking your hips up into her at a steady pace. You held her hips tightly as you buried your face into her cleavage. Her walls were slick, clinging onto your member.

"Krystal–" you mumbled. Her sultry voice boomed with breathy moans as you continued to bottom her out.

"Goddamn– You're so tight– I fucking love it–" you added.

She met every one of your thrusts with a matching motion, her body moved with desperate hunger. You couldn't help but nibble on her nipples and neck, leaving light marks. The both of you could feel the frenzied lust taking over.

"Fuck, Y/N– That's it, don't stop– Don't you dare, baby–" she cried out, her grip on your shoulder tightening. You slammed into her, your speed increasing. Krystal moaned louder than ever before, her voice echoing through the small restroom.

Suddenly, her body began to spasm as she came hard. She threw her head back as her body shook and twitched. You continued to slam into her, her insides clenching and releasing you. After a few more thrusts, her eyelids fluttered open as she leaned towards you.

"That's it– Fuck me– KNOCK ME UP–" she wailed, her body tensing, her movements becoming more erratic.

The feeling of the toilet rubbing against your hips increased the intensity of her climax. You felt yourself reaching your boiling point as well. You threw your mouth onto her tits, your body shivering. As you felt yourself start to shake, you connected your lips with hers.

"I LOVE YOU– I LOVE YOU– I LOVE YOU–" she moaned, her voice muffled by your rough kisses.

Your thrusts became more intense, your hips leaving the seat a couple of times. You let out a loud groan, and your cock twitched inside her. Krystal screamed, her body shaking.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N–" she cried out, her voice shaking.

Together, the both of you reached a powerful climax, the second or third one for her during this session. Wave after wave of pleasure surged through your entire body. You flooded her insides with your hot seed, your bodies quaking intensely.

You panted heavily as you shared a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing. The pleasure began to subside, and the both of you slowly calmed down.

"I fucking love you... Krystal... I don't think I will ever find anyone like you ever again..."

"I love you too, Y/N… But me neither... Ah shit, my flight's boarding soon..."

The both of you reluctantly got up and cleaned yourself off. You shared a long and passionate kiss before you both exited the stall, looking as though nothing had happened. You walked her to the boarding gate, right before she crossed over. With a final hug, you smiled, your tears falling down your cheeks.

"Don't forget me, Krystal... Don't let those Korean men get you while I'm gone..."

"Don't worry, baby~ I'm all yours and you're all mine... I'll text you when I land, alright?" she reassured you. You held her close. She nodded, her face contorting with sadness. With a final kiss, you both pulled away. She waved as she entered the departure area.

As you turned away, you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

"I LOVE YOU, Y/N~!"

You shedded a tear as you returned the sentiment.

"I LOVE YOU TOO, KRYSTAL!"

And with that she ran off to catch her flight, leaving you a small ache in your heart.

"I'll always love you... Krystal Jung..."

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

MASTER LIST OF INSTRUMENTAL PLAYLISTS FOR WRITING (OR FOR STUDYING, MAKING ART, ETC.)

I find that the perfect writing playlist can GREATLY enhance the writing experience. Even if it doesn't make your writing "better" (which it can, since it helps writers with visualization, tone, and mood), it can definitely make your writing flow easier!

Personally, words distract me when I'm writing, either by breaking my train of thought or by getting me too into the music so that I'm jamming out to my favorite tunes instead of writing.

Therefore, I've amassed a vast knowledge of instrumental music across a variety of media over a course of many years. Now here I am, deciding to share all of them with you!

Maddy’s Favorite Instrumental Songs

Just like the title says. All of the best pieces of instrumental music I've ever heard, compiled together with no regard for genre. It can be a bit of a whiplash playlist, but some amazing recs in there that I just like listening to in my free time, not just for writing.

Maddy’s Ultimate Instrumental Playlist

A mega compilation of 550+ fantastic instrumental music from a variety of media and genres. Kind of a whiplash playlist if you put it on shuffle, but is a great start for anyone looking to find what kind of instrumental music they like! Playlist Groupings in Order: Independent instrumental songs, live action movies, animated movies, animated tv shows, live action tv shows, video games.

Maddy's Instrumental for Sleep

Some more chill vibe instrumental for people who either A) want to sleep or B) want a relaxed playlist that won't distract you with loud volume and sudden changes in tempo or melody.

MISC PLAYLISTS:

you're a haggard adventurer discovering worlds beyond your wildest dreams

Music to inspire wonder and wanderlust, the kind of feeling you get when you finally reach the end of a mountain hike and see the world stretching out before you.

you're a hero who's just lost everything

Basically the most sad instrumental music I could find. A playlist for grief and revenge.

more beneath the cut :)

you're a cowboy in the great American West

Cowboy instrumental for all of your ambient and writing needs. Or if you just really want to feel like a cowboy.

you're a divine witness

Epic choir music (no English). Most religious, some not, but all kind of have that eerie sacred vibe. I listen to this while writing my book about angels and demons.

you’re a scholar uncovering the secrets of the universe

Great chill study playlist! Has the kind of same exploratory/discovery type feel as the haggard adventurer playlist, but more dark academia.

you’re a villain plotting to take over the world

Villain-coded instrumental! Sinister, dark, and/or unsettling.

you're an academic weapon

HIGH BPM STUDY PLAYLIST! Keeps me focused, hyped, and helps me work faster!

you're an ancient god

Playlist that gives an ancient/eerie vibe. But some ancient gods are merciful- so there are some upbeat songs for wonder and awe!

you're falling in love

Music that encapsulates what I think falling in love feels like. Very beautiful, tender, and uplifting instrumental.

you're fighting the final battle

Intense and epic battle music for all of your fight-scene-writing needs! Good for getting shit done, but isn't necessarily restricted to high BPM like the academic weapon playlist.

you're having a tea party

Refined instrumental for a tea party, including classical, big band, and some miscellaneous goodies.

you're in a chase scene

Music for writing chase scenes. Pretty good hype music, too. Includes soundtracks from classic chase scenes in popular media!

you're in the medieval times

Medieval-sounding music for all of your ambient and/or writing needs.

you’re in your childhood room. the door is open a crack. people talk softly downstairs.

A playlist dedicated to nostalgia, to the feeling of lying in bed with your nightlight on after being too tired to stay awake at your family get-together. Could either make your day or break your heart lmao

you're the happiest you've ever been

Lighthearted instrumental meant to lift your spirits! A playlist dedicated to the joys of the little things.

[katiascraft]

“am I too much for you? maybe I’m too much for everyone” | CL16

parings: Charles Leclerc x insecure!reader

summary: you feel insecure and you’re struggling but Charles makes sure you know how important you are to the world (specially his world).

now playing: “If I weren’t me” by Katherine Li

warnings: not English native speaker could there be errors. None proofread. Talk about sadness and destructive inner talk. Insecure reader. Readers pov’s.

words: +1,5k words.

a/n: heyyyy I am back!!! I disappeared for a year 💀 consistency it’s not my thing I guess. I’m finally finishing university this year!! So I guess I’ll have more time to write. Hope you like it! First on Charles. New obsession: F1 drivers. Get ready I got plenty more on my plans :p. Remember to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3

MASTERLIST

The piano tiles made the sound of the soundtrack of my sadness in this moment. My fingers touched them softly like they were fragile - like me.

Today was a nightmare from the start. Since I woke up I had a knot in my stomach that became bigger and bigger as the time passed through my routine. Sometimes itʼs really hard for me to do daily tasks such as cleaning or even eating. And it was harder if I need to go to events or meetings.

I have episodes of deep sadness Iʼve been treating on therapy. Sometimes I just canʼt control it. Today was one of those days where black and grey took over everything I felt and did. One way I found by being suggested by my therapist was writing down every thought of pain to find kind of a relief. Today itʼs really hard. Iʼm struggling really hard.

Iʼve been alone the whole day. Charles had to go to the Ferrari factory and do his driver tasks as usual. When I woke up he was gone. And maybe that contributed even more to my desperate and pathetic situation. Though I shouldnʼt talk about it like that and be more gentle with myself. It always felt to me negativity has always been my best friend and worst enemy at the same time.

Playing piano helped me so much. Write a song about my pain. Try to give a little light to all of this mess I find myself emerged in. Itʼs really hard for me to open up and seek help when I need it. Specially when it comes to Charles. I donʼt wanna be a burden to him. And I donʼt wanna stress him out with all of my dark side. I always try to brush it off when heʼs around. Most times I just pretend Iʼm happy and everything itʼs alright. As if I wasnʼt feeling too much for him. Or too less. Like Iʼm not worth of his love. Of his attention. Of his smiles. Of everything he did for me.

The fact that Charles asked me out had me shocked. Iʼve never felt like I could compete with all the models and influencers and singers and every really beautiful girl in this world. Iʼve never felt beautiful nor attractive. Yes Iʼm pretty good making jokes. And I talk too much. But Iʼve always felt I cringed people out. Dating people wasnʼt a thing I was really good at. Actually I sucked. And I think I still do. Always overthinking and second guessing every move. Every promise. Everything.

Charles was so sweet to me. He said “youʼre beautiful. Iʼm sure people tell you all the time. But you really areˮ. I couldnʼt help but get really nervous and blush. The most beautiful man Iʼve ever seen was talking to me and saying all of that. I blinked a couple of times. My smile huge. I just laughed softly trying to brush it off.

Since then we became a team. Inseparable. Charles became my best friend. My rock. I donʼt know what I ever did to deserve his love. The way he loved me was so gentle. So caring and loving. At first was hard because his love language was physical touch and that was something I wasnʼt used to. But little by little I got used to and felt amazing. Iʼve never felt so comfortable with anyone but him.

I hate my body. I feel ashamed of my personality. Most times I feel so dumb. So stupid.

I didnʼt realized I was already crying when I felt my tears dropping in my hands on the piano. I didnʼt realized I kept playing in auto-mode. When I was conscious again I started crying badly. I started shaking. I felt so bad. So guilty for even feeling this way. I didnʼt realized Charles have arrived home when I felt his deep voice from behind.

“Baby... whatʼs wrong? Youʼve been crying for a whileˮ I heard his voice and that sent shivers down my spine. I try to hold it together because I feel so embarrassed heʼs seeing me like this.

He sat next to me and hugged me. I hid my face on his neck feeling contempt. Thing is I started crying worse. I couldnʼt control it once it took on me.

“Itʼs okay baby. Itʼs okay.ˮ He whispered on my head while he stroke my hair and my arm pulling me closer. I thanked him mentally for this. I never thought I needed it so much.

Took a while until I calmed myself in his body. I part from him slowly and whipped my face with my hands. After I did he did the same. He whipped my tears so gently. He did the same looking me with bright eyes. Worry was all over his face. I licked my lips. “Iʼm sorry.ˮ I said quietly almost a whisper.

He denided with his head taking my head into his hands and stroked it softly.

“donʼt be sorry baby. Iʼm worried. Whatʼs wrong? Iʼm sorry I wasnʼt home to be with you. Why didnʼt you called me?ˮ I could feel the worry in his voice deep and cracking.

“I didnʼt want to bother to be honest. Itʼs one of those days. A really hard dayˮ my tears wanted to go out again but I holded them.

I saw his eyes turned into a sad look. He leaned on me and kissed my cheek to hugged me strongly in his arms afterwards. I buried my head in his shoulder. His smell calmed me down. I holded him pretty close to me. Strongly as him. I didnʼt want to let go.

“do you wanna talk about what you are feeling love?ˮ He whispered softly. I swallowed hard and pulled away from his so I could look into his beautiful eyes. I loved his eyes. So bright so blue sometimes. To me they felt like staring at the ocean. I stroked his face gently. He grabbed my legs on the little couch in front of the piano it our living room.

“This is one of those days where I donʼt feel enough or maybe too much to handle... all of this darkness in me that sometimes I just canʼt control it. You deserve someone confident and happy just like youˮ I told him softly and honestly. And it felt good to take it out of me for finally. I wanted to cry again but I was making my best efforts to keep it together.

“Cher... you are more than enough for me. You are the most beautiful soul Iʼve ever met. The most beautiful woman Iʼve ever seen. You are the sweetest most caring and fun person. Always there for people. You have the brightest personality. Every time you enter a room you shine. Everyone smiles. To me youʼre happiness though I know that isnʼt the whole you. Youʼre human baby. You are allowed to feel. And to not be okay. And to be okay too. You are not a burden for me. Youʼre my best friend. Mon amour. My future wife. The one whoʼs always there for me. My shoulder to cry on. The one with the greatest jokes. The life of every party I assist. You give a meaning to my life. A reason to live. You are a great daughter. The best friend someone could ask for. The greatest sister. You are a light for every single person that knows you y/n. Donʼt ever feel that you are too much to handle. And I really wanna go and kill the people who made you ever feel you were, I sware. You are amazing baby.ˮ While he was talking you couldnʼt hold it together. You just started crying. He let you do it while he whipped your tears lovingly. He seeing you like this broke his heart. You didnʼt deserve to feel like this. And he wished he could take away all of your pain. That you could see yourself the way he sees you. And feel how happy and enamoured you made him feel. “You can talk to me every time you need itˮ he continued. “you can trust me and we can figure it out together. You donʼt have to go through it alone. Okay? I love you with everything I am y/n. If I could I would take all of this pain away and just make you feel how I feel about you. I promise to me youʼre even better than Carlosˮ he said lastly jokingly making me laugh through my crying.

Now he had a huge smile on his face knowing he could make you feel better. I gave him a peck on his lips as a thank you and as an I love you.

“I donʼt know what I would do without you Charles...ˮ I said sincerely and full of love in between the lines. He gave another kiss back but now it was deeper in feelings. We kissed for a while and it felt that as the kiss continued my pain was going away feeling better every second. After the kissed I hugged him tightly. He gave kisses to my neck making me giggle a little. “I love you Charlie. Youʼre my angelˮ I whispered on his shoulder and he tightened the hug in response.

“And you are mine chérie“ he said burying his face on my shoulder.

——————————————————————————————

Charlie won COTA 🥹.

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have ideas my inbox is open for requests!

[xueyidweams]

you’re a memokeeper, a pretty strong one at that. you’ve had your eye on this pretty but cunning gambler for a while; fate always seemed to bring you two to the same place. you see him drinking away at a bar one day, you’ve been visiting Penacony for some time and know that the bar plays tango every week on this day so— why not use it as an opportunity to get into that pretty brain of his?

You put on your sultry voice, your body language relaxed and elegant as aventurine eyes you up after your invite for a dance. he accepted, took your hand and let you whisk him away to the dance floor. whether because he thinks of this as networking or simple pleasure of having one’s body close to another is of no matter to you. you give him a small smile as you slide your hands up and down his arms slowly, sensually. there’s no denying that, you aren’t trying to, how can anyone resist those eyes anyways? you make sure that every touch, every brush of your bodies is deliberate and with a purpose. push into his mind, you think as you dip him and he looks into your eyes. tipsy but not drunk and clearly enjoying this if him bouncing back to you every time you twirl him away is any sign.

his eyes are truly beautiful, yet terrifying. just from one look at his eyes there has been a tug at your heart, its painful, its of love and its of struggle and its strong yet oh so weak. You twirl him and dip him, your fingers curling around his waist, faces too close for this to be anything but flirting and chasing.

and you finally do it, you truly look into his eyes as you two are twirling each other in a warm yet unfamiliar way.

at first your heart is warm, your— no his mother’s voice filling your ears. her scent is so comforting, so familiar, so strange and so distant that you don’t even know if you can call her your mother. your heart screams with grief, tears itself apart with guilt and your soul bears its fangs with vengeance as you’re in a deserted place… your sister is crying and you don’t know what’s going on but it hurts so much to see tears on her face..

aventurine has taken the lead by now, your slightly limp movements and glazed eyes telling him all he needs to know and yet, he doesn’t hide his wounds and cuts. he lets you see him bare, he lets you look at his disgusting self— a gambler damned to always win, a kid with no one to embrace in the thick and suffocating darkness. he lets you see it, he lets you look and he doesn’t know why. maybe the alcohol. maybe.

your heart hurts so much, your soul wails and your teeth tear and bite as you kill others just like you… they had dreams they had families and now they had no one— just like you. and yet you had to kill them, if you want to make it out of here alive and burn everyone who has led you to this moment— you had to live and step on people just like you. the emotions are too much to bear, it should be a memokeeper’s dinner but it’s filled with such despair that your brain refuses to take it and you’re breathlessly pushed back to reality, the song on its final note, aventurine’s eyes looking deep into yours. your tears filled with pain that you have not experienced, filled with vengeance and anger that burns and yet it is not yours. and yet it hurts like it is.

he sees your tear stained face, pulls you up from the dip and you feel the brush of his finger and the coolness of his rings on your burning skin, and when he speaks his voice is filled with such mundane sadness that it tears you apart, “so what do you think, memokeeper?”

[apricot-blossomss]

hihi!! may i please request an apollo x reader where he pleads for them to take them back after a minor argument, and apollo, in the heat of the moment and feeling petty, breaks up with reader

☛ apollo broke up with you over a stupid argument and begs you to take him back

☛ sfw, angsty, fluffy ending; tw: self deprecating thoughts; thank you for 100 followers!

He messed up. Badly.

His hand shook over the paper but he couldn't think of another verse. Or rather: there were so many swirling around in his mind, expressing regret, loathing himself, worshipping you and asking for forgiveness, that he couldn't find one to write down. With a frustrated groan, he buried his head in his hands.

"Lord Apollo?"

"Hm?" He said, begrudgingly looking up from his miserable laments and at the Muse Clio. She, as well as her sisters, had free access to the god's sacred gardens, though he would have preferred solitude right now. And he could not bear her pitiful looks, even though it was Clio's standard expression.

"I was sent by your high father," she said and came closer to the bench were the god had sprawled out all the heartbreak and breakup songs he had written in the last forty-eight hours.

"Sit," he said without putting away his pen. Instead, he started writing, but even though his words would have brought the highest poets to shame over the mediocrity of their verses, it still didn't feel enough for you. If he wanted to get you back, he'd have to do it properly, with the most masterful piece he had ever written.

Clio sat down on the small part of the bench that wasn't covered in music and lyric sheets, letting her eyes scan over them. Jeez. Whoever you were, you had to have done quite the number on the god. When she looked at him, he was feverishly scribbling on a fresh paper, looking like a madman. "Your father," she began carefully. "urges you to leave these gardens to tend to your godly duties."

"Tell him to shove his urges up his ass," Apollo grumbled and earned a skeptical look. "Come on. I'm sure you'll find a nice way of expressing the same sentiment."

"I have another message, from your sister," she added and he grimaced, a bitter feeling at the back of his throat. "Tell her I won't have her mockery." The muse fell silent, sad, worried eyes tracing his features.

"You can leave now," the god said in a monotone voice and without another word, Clio was gone. As so often in the last fort-eight hours, Apollo felt the tears sting in his eyes once more and leaned back to drape an arm over his face. But the darkness only brought the image of the fight back.

How could he have been so stupid, so hurtful and petty? It was an argument about a fucking a/c unit. It hadn't even been an argument initially. Just harmless banter, until he had overstepped and said something hurtful. And when you snapped back, he had felt hurt and lashed out. Stupid. He was so stupid. The whole thing started spiraling out of control until he had shouted back the fateful words.

"If you can't take a joke, maybe we're not right for each other"

The guilt ate him up from the inside. The image of your widened, teary eyes was burned into his brain, he saw it every time he closed his eyes, and every time he did, his heart squeezed so painfully that he wished someone would take mercy on him and shoot him with his own arrow. And no ink in the world would draw the pain out. Only one thing could- you.

You scrubbed aggressively at your kitchen sink, even though it really was not to blame for your current situation. "Stupid," you muttered to yourself as you forcefully scoured at a stain at the side of the sink. But it wouldn't wash away a bit. "Fucking thing," you muttered, scrubbing even harder. Finally, you gave up and took a deep breath through your nose. "Fucking shit"

Your doorbell rang and you ignored it. Like the last two days, you would self isolate and obsessively clean your house- that was how you coped with having the most stupid, petty idiot of a god as a boyfriend- now ex-boyfriend. The thought stung. And even more so, because as much as you would like to pretend it was, this wasn't all on him. The bell rung again, and you sighed, throwing your towel in the sink and opening the door with a little more vigor the necessary.

"Can I help y-" The words died on your tongue. Cool, silver eyes had you forgetting how to articulate a single word as the woman in front of you looked you up and down. She was gorgeous, in a wild way. Dark hair braided and of truly majestic posture, in a flowing dress and a bow over her shoulder. You felt your whole being shiver at the sheer might of her presence- something you only felt with Apollo, only that it felt much warmer and exciting with him. Your mouth knew before your brain registered her appearance. "Lady Artemis"

"You," she said, and the tone of her voice had you stiffen up, as if she had shouted. Her scrutinizing stare had you sweat and you dug your fingers into the palms of your hands nervously. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Th-thank you," you stammered, too panicked to think of anything else to say. Was she here to take revenge on you? Apollo would never allow that, that you were sure of. But who knew whether they cooperated?

"Your appearance doesn't live up to your reputation," she said coldly, but it didn't sound like an insult. The goddess studied your expression and sighed, a hint of exhaustion in her tone. "It must be something else about you then. Something that warrants this level of drama."

"I was hardly the one who started it," you bit back and regretted the words the second they left your mouth. Biting down on your tongue, you winced at your stupidity. "Please forgive me, that was out of line." Great. Insulting her brother in front of Artemis was surely the best move.

"He thinks the same." You looked up at her and were surprised to find her smiling a very slim smile. "You should see him, he's an absolute mess, drowning in his guilt."

"Oh," you said, without a hint of worry or remorse. Instead, you felt a sense of relief. He cared. He felt guilty. He was drowning in his misery. Artemis lifted her brow at your neutral expression and you shrugged. "It's nice to be appreciated."

"You are appreciated, alright," the goddess said under her breath as she remembered the tortured sappy breakup songs her brother had been bothering everyone with. Sickeningly enough, he was really good at those, so everyone was getting depressed. Even though Artemis tended to spend her time away from Olympus, she herself could feel the effects of this misery. And she was sure many gods would breathe a sigh of relief once the whole mess was settled.

"Look," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she was having a migraine, which of course wasn't possible for gods. "Can you just take him back, mortal? He's awfully broken up and making everyone miserable."

"I'm not asking him to take me back," you said stubbornly. You may have had your part in the argument, but he was the one who ended things and your pride didn't allow for you to crawl back to him. "If he wants me back, he can tell me himself, I'm very sorry."

There was a short but noticeable silence. Then: "I understand." The goddess smiled. You were starting to live up to her expectations. "But he's just as stubborn as you and he won't get his ass down here until he has crafted 'the perfect song' to ask for your forgiveness." The thought did make your insides flutter. "How about a deal? I'll take you to my temple and make him fix this on the spot."

Not daring to refuse the proposal, you nodded and her hand got a hold of your upper arm. "Close your eyes" Instinctively, you followed her instructions. Even though you felt nothing, not even a hush of air, when you opened your eyes, you were in the most magnificent hall you had ever seen. Marble all around, with a high, open ceiling and trees invading it through the windows. A mix of ancient monument and forest.

When you turned around to ask the goddess whether this was Olympus, she was gone. You were alone, as small as an ant between the towering walls. They were so monumental it was almost claustrophobic- or rather, the opposite. Just as terrifying. The space made you feel tiny and insignificant and with those feelings came an unexpected dread:

What if he didn't want you back?

Why would he? He was a god, he could have his pick of hundreds of millions of people, people that were prettier than you, smarter than you, more exciting than you. It was like the walls were threatening to crumble, your breathing picked up and you tried to breathe through your mouth slowly, but not getting enough air only accelerated your sudden panic. What if he came in here and told you to go, that he didn't need you, didn't want you? That you couldn't even take a joke and you shouldn't be with one another? The scrutinizing look in her eyes as Artemis had looked you up and down was burned into your memory. Your appearance doesn't live up to your reputation.

He wrote you songs, you tried to remind yourself. He was being petty, that why he broke things off. Artemis says he regrets it, she said he wants you back. But you couldn't believe it- not really, no matter how often you tried to tell it to yourself. He wants you. But why would he? He loves you. Why you? There was no clock in the temple, of course, but it had been some time already . Would he even show up?

The tall stone doors were opened with such force they met the walls in a loud bang. Flinching hard, you shot around and saw him standing there, in between the doors that were creaking in protest of being handled with such force. You met his eyes and in that moment you knew you had already forgiven him. If a gods eyes could be bloodshot, his were. His usually effortlessly perfect hair was disheveled and his hands covered in ink. They hung powerlessly at his sides, as if they didn't know what else but the door to use their strength on. He looked like shit, and you felt love swell in your chest.

But you couldn't let him know. Pressing your hands to your hips, you lifted your chin. "I knew you'd come back" Liar "I just wouldn't have thought it would be this quickly," you said, sounding much more self assured than you had ever been in your life, much less now.

The god walked towards you, as if he were dream walking, raising a hand like he was about to caress your cheeks but slumped down in front of you instead, kneeling before you on the marble floor. "I am a fool."

"Yes," you said, nodding and gulping down the burning in the corners of your eyes. Because you couldn't stand the self loathing in his features, you studied a blooming cherry tree that was waving through one of the tall windows. When you felt hands on your hips, your own hands shot down but when they met his, your fingers curled around his and he let out a long breath.

"I am such a stupid, stupid moron," he emphasized and you finally managed to look down at him. The genuine regret in his eyes took your breath right out of your lungs. "Please... my love..." His hands closed around your smaller ones and he brought them to his face to put his head in his hands. You let him. "Please, forgive me. I was so stupid, please, take me back. Love?"

"Hm?"

"I'm so so sorry"

Not trusting your voice, you started caressing his cheeks and he sighed into your ministrations, kissing the palm of your hand softly. Teary eyes shone up at you and you looked back. Just when you opened your mouth to formulate an answer, he tightened his hold on you, while simultaneously reaching behind himself to grab a stack of scribbled-on paper out of nowhere and pushing it into your hands. "I tried to make the perfect one for you, but I failed. I'm sorry, my love."

As you read through the words, your heart started beating loudly in your chest. In disbelief, you read them through as the god still clung to your body. "Are these ... about me?" you whispered as your eyes skimmed over words of adoration and love, of appreciation and utter devotion, of little things you did that you had never noticed, or you had thought mundane- but he hadn't.

"Yes," he breathed. He didn't make a sound when he rose to his feet, though still hunched over in shame. His warm hands massaged your waist as they were carefully scanning your expression for your reaction. "Do you like them?" You had to like them, or he would lock himself in tarterus and throw away the key.

"I-" you stammered, voice hoarse. All your doubts, all your anxiety of being good enough... as you read through the words, they slowly erased them bit by bit. Your fingers were shaking so hard the paper trembled in your hands and you could feel the tears well up in your eyes. "Love?" He sounded worried, and you had to make yourself look up from the beautiful words to smile at him. "Yes, I like them. They're beautiful."

Thank god. "I'll make it all up to you, I swear," he said gravely, taking your face into his hands. "I will compose and sing operas to your magnificence, I will grant you every wish, I will never make you cry again, I promise"

"You just did," you laughed through your tears and pressed the stack of paper to your chest. "Can I uh- can I keep them?"

"Of course, silly. They are yours," he hummed, looking into your eyes with a look in his eyes you couldn't quite place. Maybe longing. Desperation. "Please, my love, take me back and I shall never make you suffer again."

"Alright," you said, smiling up at him and wiping away the saltine wetness on your cheeks. "And- I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, you didn't mean it like that and I was just being stupid and overthinking and- I'm sorry."

Vehemently, Apollo shook his head and shushed down your apologies. "No no no, love, this was on me, just on me. I hurt you, I made you cry and I ... I can't get that out of my head." His voice sounded strained.

"Apollo?" Now, it was his eyes threatening to overflow with tears. "Why did you come back?" He looked at you as if you had just said the most bewildering thing ever. "I mean... you could have just left me. But you didn't." A small, bitter laugh escaped you. "I lied, you know? I didn't know if you would come back, I thought you might just not care that much."

"How could you ever think that?" he asked, as if he really couldn't believe it, and you laughed. "Because I hate myself?" It was meant to be a joke, but your puffy eyes and sniffs didn't do a lot of convincing on that end, you feared. The pained look in his eyes almost made you cry again, not even for your sake, but for his, because how could someone look this tortured and not break apart.

"You are the most amazing woman- the most amazing person- I have ever had the privilege of loving," he confesses. "I love you."

The genuinity in his words took your breath away, and you didn't get a chance to get it back because his lips crashed onto yours in a heated, desperate attempt to convince you of his words. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you kissed him back feverishly as relief flooded your whole body and you started relaxing in his arms. He could feel you slumping against him and chuckled into your heated kiss, angling your head just right for him to deepen the kiss, holding you securely and dipping you down. You giggled, fully entrusting him with yourself, and he smiled through the kiss.

"You are divine," he groaned, placing kiss after kiss on your swollen lips and you laughed lightly before the way of it was swallowed by his loving ministrations. "Says the literal god."

"APOLLO!"

Flinching, you broke away from the kiss just enough to see a very pissed off Artemis standing in the doors of her temple and glaring at her brother who frowned right back. "You're interrupting, sister."

"You are in my temple! How dare you do this in my temple you little shit?" When she whipped her head around to you, you buried your fingers in Apollo's tunic, already seeing your life flashing before your eyes, but against all expectations, she gave you a genuine smile. "If you don't want to take him back, I might still have a spot for you under my followers, you could join my huntresses, dear."

"That is a very gracious offer, but I fear I have to decline it, I'm sorry," you apologized and she tutted, though she didn't seem resentful.

"Ha!" Apollo grinned and she smacked him. He let her, grinning boyishly and hositing you up into his arms. You didn't protest, you were too dazzled by his unbelievably bright smile that had your heart explode into a thousand bubbles that popped all over your stomach, tingling. "Love, how do you feel about getting out of here?"

Waving at Artemis, you couldn't help your own smile. "Bye! And thank you, my lady!" She gave you a small smile and exchanged a look with Apollo that was more firm. Smiling at her, he glanced down at you and tightened his hold. "I know."

"Go!" his sister told him, shoving his shoulder, and in the flash of a second, you were surrounded by trees and flowers and sweet smells. A garden. Unmistakably divine, because no mortal place could be of such beauty.

Apollo set you down on a golden bench and sat down himself, pulling you into his warm arms. A long sigh left your mouth as you smiled at him, at his beauty, his smile, his shiny eyes. It felt so intimate, the way he was smiling back and pressed a kiss to your temple, huffing out a warm breath against your skin that was slowly warmed up by the sun. "Where are we?" you finally asked.

"My gardens," he answered, caressing your face with trails of sweet kisses. "Do you like them?" You nodded, admiring the colors as he was worshipping your face with his lips.

"Do you want to have them?"

"What?" you laughed, turning to look at him and fully convinced that he must be making a joke. But the expression on his face was undoubtedly honest. "N-no thanks," you mumbled and rested your hand on his shoulder. Your fingers interlaced with his.

"Do you know what Artemis told me before she happened to mention you were waiting for me at her temple?" Shaking your head, you started playing with his fingers when his captured your ring finger and his lips ghosted over your ear in a way that had you shiver in spite of the warmth of his sunny gardens. "She told me if I wanted you back forever, and if I loved you as much as I said, I should just put a ring on it."

"What?" you laughed instinctively, because you had built a wall around the topic for the both of you. What you had with Apollo wasn't permanent- it couldn't be, because you weren't permanent. What was he even talking about?

"I mean it," he said, so earnestly that the laughter died on your tongue. He brought your hand up to his lips and pressed his lips to your knuckles, your ring finger. "I would drag myself through eternal suffering for a life you. If you preferred a mortal life, I'd leave Olympus for you. I would kill anyone who hurt you, anyone ever made you feel small. I'd do everything for you, and I don't want to regret anything more."

Breathlessly, you searched his features for deception. "Apollo... you had thousands of lovers before me. Why me?"

He looked thoughtful and absentmindedly drew circles on your thigh. "You're right. I have loved plenty, and I have loved deeply every time. But even though it was genuine, it was never long, and that always worked for me, in some way." You felt the caress of his adoring eyes on you as you stared at your hands, trying to process his words. "It wouldn't work with you, never. And I would never be okay with it. I want you forever- or at least for as long as possible, as long as you want to."

There was a downside to dating Apollo, and it was the fact that your stammered confession and your attempts at wooing him with loving words crippled pathetically next to his flawless love poetry, his sure words and articulation. You really didn't know how to possibly give him an answer, other than leaning up and kissing him, as gently as the summer breeze, and thinking: if you could have this forever, what more could you need?

When you broke the sweet little kiss, you couldn't suppress a giggle and he raised an eyebrow at you. "It's just..." you grimaced. "I can't believe we broke up over an a/c unit."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hazbin Hotel Men - Take care of you

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, crying, no use of Y/n, fem reader

Characters : Alastor , Angel Dust, Husk , Sir Pentious, Vox , Valentino

Info : So it is here my first work for the hazbin hotel fandom and I'm very excited. I'm in it again after watching years ago the pilot, the first few episodes of hb and the great/amazing music video adict. So have fun everyone and enjoy it ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor : A smile always graces his lips and even if you're not used to it, he's quite disturbed when his loved one doesn't smile too. They've been through a lot together, but when he walks through the corridors of the hotel from his broadcasting studio and finds his darling sad, even crying, the static goes out of his voice for a moment. He will always worry about his darling, the only one in his dark, twisted heart. ,,Darling, what's wrong...who should I make scream?" he asked, his claw-like fingers resting on your hands, the strange charged static running through you strange yet familiar. Almost judging and somehow tickling. He would listen quietly to what was on his darling's mind and let a soft song play over his wand, the song that had played when he got the letter. Your letter of admiration in such a cruel place as hell the radio demon had marveled at. ,,Or I'll just stay with you mhhh a little show?" he asked, gently wiping the tears from your cheek with his fingers before pulling his sweet tone from the bed and flicking the room into a reddish dance hall. The radio waves turned to a song and he gently guided his darling around the room, brushing away her tears with each turn, reminding her of the things they had together. The time they had together, the things they had done for each other. His special affection, his gratitude and his love that belonged only to her. ,,You know I'm always with you darling, no matter what," he reminded his heart before leaving a gentle kiss on the back of her hand as the music faded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel Dust : Angel Dust knew best what it meant when it came to money. He had lived it hell he was in that vicious circle and knew what it was like to be exploited for money almost every night. But in all this fire and poison he had found his own drug, so to speak. The one that had helped him when he was down, when he needed a break, when he couldn't sleep after night after night. She had sacrificed herself, Val had practically thrown herself at the throat, had taken it upon herself to become the number two in the business, something "enough" as Valentino called it. But Angel knew better than anyone that something like this didn't just pass you by. Which is why, with a warm tea in his hands, the spider heard the quiet knock on the door before he heard the ,,Come in." He didn't have to look to know that the runny makeup was from tears and other things. ,,Hey princess, come here," he murmured, putting the tea on the side table before slowly putting his hands around her. Never firm enough that she couldn't resist, always calm enough to show her that he didn't want what the others in the store wanted. The words flowed slowly over her lips and even though they both knew there was no point in talking about it, it felt good. It eased the pain and Angel was able to wipe away her tears before he gave her the tea. Because if there was one thing he had learned, it was that a cup of tea could work wonders in a few minutes and make you feel warm and safe. ,,I promise this will all end soon," he murmured, letting his beauty lay her head on his chest and he smiled gently as he saw the trembling of her body lessen with his calm heartbeat. At least they would both have something like hope for a while...a moment of calm and peace in the vicious circle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Husk : The clinking of glasses was something that could always be heard at the bar, either when the former overlord was sorting, washing or serving the glasses. The bottles made about the same sound but darker. But something still filled his bar: sniffling and sobbing. The sadness of his favorite, lucky clover, sitting at the bar with his head buried in his hands. He had just blown away to take another order because everyone else was already off to Satan's place. The beating of his wings could be heard as he hurriedly came over to her. He didn't need to look at the sad face, ,,I know you've given everything we all know that" he said and reached for the right drink he knew her favorite order was the one she had brought him back when he was lucky. He handed her the drink and slowly and gently took her hands from her face before she took the drink with a slight look of gratitude. He nodded in acknowledgment as he saw them both just sitting there for a moment, he slowly wrapped his sweat around her waist and pulled her a little closer, placing a wing on her shoulder. Knew the feathers were something she wanted. Because he was right, she let her fingers wander over the pattern. She finally gave in and told him about her yet another failed attempt to get money and power for the hotel, maybe even a few free ones, but nothing had worked. Instead, only the usual cursing and swearing...as the cave was true. Without happiness and kindness. ,,But our happiness and togetherness will last forever," he said and handed her one of his golden dice before the two of them rolled it over the wood of the ceiling. But in fact, when Husk pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek, both dice landed as doubles. They knew that together they had the best luck they could have as a couple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sir Pentiuos : The airship's engine was loud, but the serpent demon was able to distinguish between the sound of an engine, the cracking of eggs and the sobs of its first officers. Turning away from the steering wheel, hoping that a cherry-scented bomb would not be thrown through the windshield, he made his way into the interior of his airship. ,,My beauty? Are you in here?" he asked as he looked into the individual rooms of the ship before he heard her from the craft room, where she was mostly developing her weapons. Weapons that had often led them both to victory, but this time it didn't work out. it was the third time in the last week that they had been caught by the bombs. He saw her sitting on one of the tables with another broken weapon in her hands, a mistake she took to heart. ,,Ohh darling please don't I'm here come here" he whispered and his forked snake tongue wetted her cheek lightly as he pulled her into an embrace. The kiss on her cheek made her smile as she saw that the serpentine demon was a little pink in the cheeks himself. His cuteness that he mostly didn't know about always cheered her up, he would always manage somehow. His snake tail curled around her body and his slightly scaly skin felt warm when she put her fingers on it. He knew his scales soothed her and his words dug into her like the bite of a snake. He slowly put her weapon aside and cuddled her again, encouraging her. ,,Shall I fetch the eggs? A big party, my dear, maybe a party," he suggested with a smile and shortly afterwards he lifted her into his arms before the two of them went to the little ones. The family sat down together and soon instead of crying, laughter and joy could be heard as Sir Pentious stood by their side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vox : Voices can get loud, programs can get loud and with the three Vees it can get very very loud. If not the models, then Val's employees or hookers suffer from this. But this stress for new eriesn, new porn shoots and new clothes became too much for every demon. And when Vox went back to his office/broadcasting station he had, as always, an overishct on everything. A look at everything and everyone, but a look at the one screen he always had closest to him. Just a second later, he showed up in her room using his skills to make the viewers go haywire. They were always surrounded by noise, so he knew how good it was to have silence. ,,Hey button we'll take care of the ratings later...what do you need mhh?" he asked taking her cell phone from the one she was using to monitor the other ratings. He used his hands to pull her towards him, moving her slightly around the room, not necessarily dancing but playfully looking for that spark. ,,Come on, tell dear Vox what it is? Something special you want me to take care of?" he offered a small spark on her body, seeing that she smiled briefly knowing she liked it, that little shock that made her heart beat faster, drove her nerves and dispelled her fear. ,,You know no one can do anything to the four of us, we're different...and hot," he reminded her, laughing with her as his mood brought her back to her proper self. She felt the loaded kiss on her lips briefly but like catching up on a television. Before they moved across the room they shared a drink and she rested her head against his shoulder as they looked across the cave knowing that if they all stayed together she would stay with Vox he would never leave her and everything would work out in the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Valentino : Obscene noises, neon pink signs, and a reclamation board and TV that gave a taste of the videos and movies that would come out if you went to the brothel in the compartment that belonged to Valentino. In this particular business, one thing mattered above all else. Stamina. Stamina if it was going to be a long night with twenty guys, stamina to film it all, stamina to count the money at the end and stamina when you were in hangover. It was exhausting for the employees and for Val, but especially for the assistant. The brothel mother, designer, scriptwriter and partner of the moth demon. It all just became too much at some point, which is why it took the Overlord a moment to realize that crying wasn't what he knew. In a flash of his smoke and the flutter of his wings, he made his way to their shared room. ,,My sweet kitty, what's wrong? No inspiration shall I fetch Angel or our favorite maybe Vox?" he suggested with a grin and took a puff on his cigrette as he approached the bed. Sha, however, that this only made him more depressed and his grin diminished as he extinguished the cigarette in the smoke and came to her, his wings blocking out the bright pink light from everywhere and the two of them a little darkened. Quiet and just the two of them. ,,Too much...I know it's a bit too stimulating sometimes," he mumbled, trying to find the right words, still not the best at taking care of others in his egocentric worldview of sex and money. But for her he would give anything and he could feel how it bothered him not to see her smiling, not shining with inspiration. He held out his hand to her for permission as she slowly cuddled up to him. ,,Here just the two of us just here and no one else just us" he whispered quietly trying not to hold her too tightly but not too loosely as the wings wrapped around them both like a blanket. As they both listened to each other's heartbeats, the sweet smell of Valentino was familiar but reassuringly true. It was just that hold they b oth needed in a place where they knew there was no going back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[0omillo0]

DANCER! LEE KNOW X EX DANCER! READER

Warnings!: None! Fluff and Comfort <3

masterlist

… In this familiar place, the practice room, with Lee Know in front of you, something stirred—a memory of who you used to be, and maybe, just maybe, who you could be again…

The soft lights of the practice room reflected off the polished floor, casting a gentle glow across the space as Lee Know moved with fluid precision, his body in perfect harmony with the music filling the room. Each step, each graceful turn, seemed effortless as if the rhythm coursed through his veins. You sat quietly on a bench by the mirrored wall, watching him dance like you always had, with awe and admiration.

He was mesmerizing, lost in the music, and every movement was filled with passion.

For you, though, dancing had become a distant memory.

It had been months, maybe even years, since you’d last felt that same passion. Your love for dancing had slowly withered away, suffocated by the weight of insecurity and self-doubt. You’d stopped looking in mirrors because every time you did, you no longer saw the dancer you once were. The confidence you once held so tightly had slipped through your fingers, leaving you feeling like a shadow of your former self.

Lee Know finished his routine, breathing heavily as he wiped sweat from his brow, turning to you with that familiar smile—the one that always seemed to reach his eyes, the one that had always made you feel a little less lost.

“So, how was the performance?” he asked, a playful edge to his tone as he walked toward you.

“You were incredible, as always,” you replied honestly, though there was a hint of sadness in your voice you couldn’t quite hide.

He stood in front of you, towel draped around his neck, and gave you a thoughtful look. “You know, I still wonder why you stopped dancing.”

The question made your stomach knot, a familiar ache settling in your chest. It was something you asked yourself often but could never seem to answer fully.

You lowered your gaze to your hands, fiddling with the hem of your shirt nervously. “I… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I just… lost confidence. Or maybe I was scared I wasn’t good enough anymore.”

Lee Know crouched down in front of you, bringing his face closer to yours. His dark eyes searched yours, full of warmth and sincerity. “You were never ‘not good enough,’” he said softly, his voice firm. “You were one of the most talented dancers I’ve ever known. You still are.”

His words hit something deep inside you, stirring feelings you’d tried to bury. “I don’t feel like that anymore,” you whispered, the doubt heavy in your chest. “It’s been so long. I’m not the same.”

Lee Know stood up, reaching out his hand to you with a determined look. “Come on,” he said, voice steady.

You blinked, confused. “What? Where are we going?”

“Just come dance with me,” he repeated, not letting you shy away.

You shook your head quickly, panic rising in your throat. “No, Minho, I can’t—”

“I’m not asking you to be perfect,” he said, voice calm yet insistent. “Just dance. Like we used to. Just you and me.”

You hesitated, looking at his hand, feeling the weight of everything holding you back. But the sincerity in his eyes, the quiet reassurance he always carried, gave you the courage to take his hand. He pulled you up gently, leading you toward the center of the room. His touch was warm, familiar, and comforting.

Lee Know pressed play on the stereo, and a slow, familiar melody began to drift through the room—a song you both knew well, one you’d danced to countless times in the past.

He looked at you, his gaze soft, filled with something deeper than just friendship. “Don’t think,” he whispered. “Just let your body remember.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to drown out the doubts in your head. When you opened them again, Lee Know was there, moving with ease beside you. Slowly, hesitantly, your feet began to follow the rhythm, your body remembering the motions. At first, you felt awkward, rusty, but then something clicked. And suddenly, you were dancing.

You felt it—the freedom, the joy that you’d missed so much. The weight of your insecurities melted away, and you found yourself moving with him, your steps flowing with the music, with the familiar beat of the dance. It was like nothing had changed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel broken.

When the music ended, you stopped, breathless, but light. The relief, the joy, coursing through you was something you hadn’t felt in so long. You looked at Lee Know, who was watching you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“You haven’t lost anything,” he said quietly, his voice full of pride. “You’re still you. The dancer who could move like nothing else mattered.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, but it wasn’t from sadness this time. It was gratitude, relief—hope. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I don’t know how you do it, but you always make me feel… like I’m worth something.”

Lee Know’s smile softened, his thumb brushing gently across the back of your hand. “Do you want to know why?”

You nodded, your heart beating fast, unsure of what he would say.

“Because you are,” he said softly, eyes locking with yours. “You’ve always been special to me. Not just because of how you dance… but because of who you are.”

His voice was quiet, but the weight of his words made your breath catch in your throat. You stared at him, trying to process what he was saying, but your heart was already racing ahead.

“And I wasn’t going to tell you like this,” he continued, a hint of nervousness in his voice now. “But… I love you. I have for a long time.”

The world seemed to freeze around you. His words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You searched his face, looking for any hint of doubt, but all you saw was honesty, a vulnerability that made your heart swell.

Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face against his chest. “I love you too, Minho,” you whispered, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. “I always have.”

His embrace tightened, and in that moment, with the soft glow of the practice room around you and the echoes of the music still in the air, everything felt right.

For the first time in a long time, you felt whole.

[felassan]

What's all this about Solas speaking in iambic pentameter? English isn't my first language so I never noticed anything odd about the way he talks, but your blog is the first time I've seen it mentioned by anyone

hello! ◕‿◕ Solas sometimes speaks in a specific pattern or rhythm. It sometimes gets described as or compared by people to iambic pentameter. (which is a type of rhythm common in traditional English poetry. Shakespeare used it in his sonnets and plays.) Though, I'm not sure that it's actually literally that or always that. The main point is that at those times, he's speaking particularly poetically, with a specific poetic rhythm in his speech. (Like where the stress on syllables is and the 'beats' in his speech.) Occasionally, the Inquisitor's dialogue line[s] in response to him are the same.

When Trick Weekes wrote Solas in DA:I, they wrote some of his key scenes to KD Lang's cover of the song Hallelujah on a loop. They talked about some of their process and the reasons for the use of this technique in terms of Solas' characterization in this DA:I-era blog post:

Trick Weekes: "When Solas talks about things that he saw in the Fade, things that speak to a distant past, I needed him to sound ever so slightly otherworldly and wistful – someone remembering a dream with a sense of both sadness and inevitability. If you follow [that link] and look at some of Solas’s lines, you may notice a familiar rhythm come out. It would have been forcing it to give lines the same rhyme scheme, but giving the words the meter captured some of that wistfulness and made Solas sound ever so slightly otherworldly. (In the rare cases the player got into the same rhythm, there was always an approval bump from Solas. For that brief period, it was like the player was thinking like he did.) I used this a few times over the game, and I love what it did to his voice. Also, Cori (who edited Solas) is exceedingly kind for putting up with my request that changes to those lines keep this surreptitious rhythm."

[source]

An example of when it happens in DA:I is:

"I've journeyed deep into the Fade // in ancient ruins and battlefields // to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash // to reenact the bloody past // in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. Every great war // has its heroes. // I'm just curious // what kind you'll be."

Compare this with the song's lyrics:

"I heard there was a secret chord // That David played, and it pleased the Lord // You don't really care for music, do ya? Well it goes like this: The fourth, the fifth // The minor fall, the major lift // The baffled king composing Hallelujah Hallelujah // Hallelujah // Hallelujah // Hallelujah"

An example from Trespasser is:

"I lay in dark and dreaming sleep [I heard there was a secret chord] while countless wars and ages passed [That David played, and it pleased the Lord] I woke still weak a year before I joined you. [You don't really care for music, do ya?]" etc.

Recent mentions of this are:

Q. Will Solas still occasionally or dramatically speak in iambic pentameter? A. “Massive kudos to Patrick, who always writes Solas so well. Again, Solas is a returning character. It’s the same Solas you know and love (or hate depending on who you are). The same writer. So I think the answer is yeah, it’s Solas.” – John Epler

[source: BioWare dev Discord Q&A on June 14th]

User: "you really went off with solas. but the iambic pentameter makes writing fanfic dialogue for him so treacherous..." Trick Weekes: "It doesn't always have to be in the cadence! Just when he's deeply feeling The Old Days! He's written in standard prose 99% of the time!"

[source]

I think he does it a bit in the gameplay reveal video [Veil ripping scene with Varric] too. hope this helps :>

[msg refs this post]

[For the developer Q&A from June 14th on Discord: Notes are here, re-watch link is here]